Avengers: Keeper of the Flame
by MetalOx137
Summary: Following the deaths of Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff contemplates a new life without the Avengers.
1. Chapter 1

It was late afternoon, and the sky was cloudless. Wanda Maximoff stood at the edge of a wide riverbank, staring out over the slowly moving water, a gentle breeze teasing at her dark red hair.

A few hours ago, she had attended the funeral service for Tony Stark, one of the founding members of the Avengers. And tomorrow, she would be attending a similar service for her best friend, Natasha Romanoff. Wanda still couldn't process it. Two people she'd lived with, worked with, fought beside, for years - one of whom she openly loved - and now, they were both gone. And there was no magic snap that was bringing either of them back. No tears yet - but they would come. For the moment, her brain seemed to have shut itself off, sparing her. But Wanda knew better than most - grief abides. It would wait, patiently, but it would not be denied. Soon enough, she would feel the pain of the loss, and she dreaded it.

Although Tony Stark's service had been limited to an inner circle of family and closest friends, the Stark cabin was still thronged with people. Some Wanda knew, many others she didn't. For a time after the service, she wandered from one circle of mourners to the next, listening to their stories, sometimes adding an anecdote of her own. But after a short time, the atmosphere felt oppressive. Too many people, talking too loudly. It wasn't a party, as such, but the gathering had a similar dynamic. She understood that everyone needed to express their sympathies and comfort their friends. But the noise and clamor began to irritate her. She slipped quietly from the cabin, and wandered down the hill, towards the dock. She found a grassy spot a few feet downstream from where the service had been held, and let the calming silence wash over her like a salve. She sighed with relief.

Wanda had no idea how long she'd been standing there, when she heard the soft tread of footsteps coming up behind her. She didn't care enough to turn to see who it was. It could even be Thanos, back from the dead, ready to stave in her skull with a bloodied ax. She simply didn't care.

"There you are." Clint Barton's voice. Wanda relaxed somewhat. "Couldn't stand all the noise either, huh?"

Wanda turned her head slightly and gave her friend a subdued smile. "Are all funerals in America that... loud?"

"Not usually," Clint admitted. "Stark would have loved this, though. Practically a wake. He always was a party boy at heart."

"Stark's not a party boy," Wanda objected.

Clint snorted softly. "You didn't know him in the early days."

Wanda didn't answer; she was only beginning to realize there was a lot about Tony Stark she didn't know - and now she never would. "I would have liked to have seen him with his daughter," she confided after a time. "See how being a father changed him."

"Yeah. So would I," Clint agreed.

"You didn't see Morgan when she was born?" Wanda asked in surprise.

"Nope. Today's the first time I've met his kid."

Wanda turned to look at Clint, but he intentionally refused to meet her gaze.

"You never saw Tony and Morgan together?" she pressed.

"Nope."

"But... you weren't snapped," Wanda protested. "Were you?"

Clint kept his gaze steadfast upon the water. "I wasn't snapped," he admitted, after a very long pause.

Wanda digested his admission in dismayed silence. Five years. And apparently, Clint had had no contact with his fellow Avengers in the whole of that time. What happened? Where had he been?

"So where were you, then?" she asked finally, when it became obvious Clint wasn't going to elaborate.

The question was every bit as loaded as Wanda intended, and Clint stared down at his dark dress shoes uncomfortably.

"I was... busy."

"Oh, yeah? Doing what?"

Clint stared out over the river, not meeting Wanda's gaze.

"Trying to kill myself," he confessed finally. "Well, not really," he added quickly. "But... maybe? I dunno. I guess... I kinda went a little crazy there for a while."

A sudden, horrifying realization came to Wanda, so painful it was like a stab wound to her heart. "Laura...?"

"Yeah." Clint was as motionless as stone. "And the kids. I lost 'em all."

"Oh, God, Clint, I'm so sorry. I had no idea."

Clint shrugged helplessly, still keeping his eyes fixed on the water. "It worked out. I got my family back. That's more than I could ask. More than I deserved." He paused. "Yep. Got 'em all back. Laura. The kids. Even you. Everyone... everyone but Nat."

"That wasn't your fault."

Clint's jaw clenched. "Kinda is."

He sighed deeply, a ragged exhalation of grief. "You know... I just wish there was some way we could tell her. Let her know. That we did it. That we won."

Wanda smiled sadly. "She knows," she said. "They both do."

The two friends stepped closer together, entwining their arms in a comforting hug. They stood on the riverbank for long time in companionable silence, listening to the ululations of birdsong and the gentle lapping of water against the bank.

"I actually came down here to ask you something," Clint said, when they finally released each other.

"Oh, yeah? And what's that?"

"Laura and I... we talked on the way out here. We'd like you to come stay with us."

Wanda looked at Clint in surprise. "At the farmhouse?"

"Yeah. For as long as you want. Until you decide... whatever it is you want to do next. Hey, it's not like you have an Avengers HQ to go back to."

"That's so sweet, Clint."

Clint gave her a sad smile. "You and Nat, you're like family to Laura and me. And we don't want you left alone, with no place to go."

"Thank you. That's a very kind offer."

"Well... if I'm being honest, we're being a little self-serving. Right now, we got three kids and two adults at the Barton household. That means one parent's always being double-teamed. It would be nice to restore the balance of power."

"A third referee?" Wanda chuckled softly. "And maybe a live-in babysitter?"

"Sometimes," Clint admitted. "What do you think?"

"I'm tempted," Wanda nodded. "But I think for right now... I'm going to stay in New York."

"Really." It was Clint's turn to be surprised. "To do what?"

Wanda sighed deeply. "Well, for starters, go through Nat's personal effects. Someone has to do it. I still have my set of keys to the apartment, from when we were living together."

Clint made a face. "I didn't think of that. Does she have an executor for her estate, do you know? Or a will?"

"No idea. Maybe I'll find one, while I'm cleaning the place out."

"And after that?"

"I don't know yet," Wanda said thoughtfully.

"Well, if you decide the Big Apple is just too rotten for you, you know you always have someplace you can call home."

"Thank you, Clint. That means more to me than I can tell you."

Impulsively, Wanda leaned in and gave Clint a tender kiss on the cheek. "You are a very kind, decent man."

"I'm really not," Clint mumbled.

"You are to me," Wanda insisted, and then she grinned. "So just shut up and accept that."

Clint managed a smile in return. "Yes, ma'am."

Wanda nodded approvingly. "Laura's got you well trained," she declared.

"I missed her," Clint confided in a low voice. "So much. I was just... lost... without her. Without the kids."

He seemed on the verge of tears.

"Well, as you said, you've got them back now," Wanda said, hugging him tightly. "They'll keep you on the straight and narrow."

"Yeah. I'm counting on that."

"Besides, you, Thor and Bruce are the only remaining original Avengers. We're going to need your help putting the team back together."

"Wanda..." Clint shuffled his feet awkwardly. "I'm not sure there's going to be an Avengers team any more."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, we're done. Look at us," he sighed. "Nat's gone, Stark's gone. Thor's going off to outer space with the raccoon squad. Bruce is crippled, whether he admits it or not. And God knows Steve's not suiting up ever again."

"No, but Sam might," Wanda countered. "And don't forget about Carol."

"Who, glow-in-the-dark Danvers? Earth isn't her beat. She's made that pretty clear."

"What about T'Challa?"

"He's king of his own country. That's enough for anybody's plate."

"You don't want to keep the team together?" Wanda couldn't keep the disappointment out of her voice.

"Good God, Wanda," Clint exclaimed. "Why? Why would you want to do that? Haven't we done enough? Haven't we made all the sacrifices we need to make?"

"Someone has to protect the world," Wanda insisted plaintively.

"Maybe. Maybe not," Clint answered. "Maybe it's time for someone else to do this job. Somebody younger."

Wanda feigned indignation. "Well, thank you for that."

"You know what I mean. We've had our shot. Let someone else take a whack at it."

Clint's pain was so raw that Wanda immediately relented. "Okay. Okay," she said soothingly. "We don't need to worry about this now. We have all the time in the world to decide what to do next."

She desperately tried to think of a way of cajoling her friend's flagging spirits. "Do you remember," she said slowly, "When I first joined the team, and you and Sam set up a paintball game for me?"

Clint gave Wanda a sideways glance, then he chuckled ruefully. "Oh, God," he groaned, "I thought for sure Nat was gonna skin me alive after that fiasco. She was _furious."_

"She wasn't."

"She wasn't?"

"She was so pleased that you were welcoming me to the team. And it's a kindness I've never forgotten." She gave him a tender smile. "And I never will."

"So, what, all that time, she was just giving me a ration of crap about it?"

"She did enjoy teasing you," Wanda grinned.

"Damn. I really thought I was in the doghouse for life with that one."

"She loved you," Wanda declared. "Almost as much as I do."

Wanda hugged Clint again, then sighed and turned back to the house atop the hill. It was getting late, the lights were already on inside the house and darkness was fast approaching.

"I suppose we should go back up," she mused.

"Yeah. Probably should," Clint agreed. "A lot of our fellow Avengers need comforting too."

"Well, tell you what. We'll team up, yes? You go look after the men. I'll go give Pepper a big hug, see if she needs anything, and if Morgan will tolerate a strange new auntie, I'll read her bedtime stories until she falls asleep."

"Sounds like a plan." Clint gave Wanda an appraising look. "Do you ever think about having kids of your own?" he asked, hoping the question wasn't too personal.

"I haven't really thought about it," Wanda said slowly. "But... I like the idea," she allowed. "I could definitely see that happening one day."

"Oh, man. Well, let me warn you," Clint said. "Thanos is nothing, _nothing,_ compared to a two-year-old throwing a temper tantrum. You wanna talk end of the universe? _That's_ end of the universe."

Wanda laughed. Clint's spirits were slowly returning to a happier place, as she hoped they would, and her own spirits were lifting too. She offered Clint her arm. With a sad smile, he took it, and arm in arm the two friends started back up the hill towards the house.


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as Wanda let herself into the apartment she used to share with Natasha Romanoff, she knew she had made a terrible mistake. Her grief was too new, and the ghosts too visible.

Neither of them had lived here, not really. Avengers tended to live their lives on the road. And even when they weren't busy saving the world, a lot more waking time was spent at the headquarters complex in upstate New York than anywhere else - a complex, Wanda reminded herself sadly, that was now nothing more than a gargantuan pile of rubble.

She stepped into the entryway, and flicked on all the light switches. The overhead lights flickered reluctantly, after many weeks of disuse, but finally came on. Just past the entryway was the main room of the apartment - a large, sprawling, open space with vaulted ceilings, consisting of a living room that looked out over the Manhattan skyline, and a comfortable kitchen with a bar. Wanda set the keys on the counter and looked around. There wasn't a lot of furniture in the apartment. There wasn't really a need. A large couch, big enough to sleep on, a television set, a coffee table, a writing desk, two upholstered chairs, three barstools. That was all.

Wanda stood at the close end of the bar, just looking at the empty space, made much emptier by the knowledge that the person she loved would never be in this space again. This had been their getaway spot, a place where the two women could just relax and enjoy themselves - watch old movies, cook, or just talk. Whatever they felt like at the time. A flood of memories haunted Wanda's thoughts. She could almost hear Natasha scolding her, from behind the bar.

"_Wanda, did you fall asleep on the couch again?"_

"_Yeah, I did, so?" _she could hear herself replying.

"_So, you have a bedroom of your own, you know."_

"_I couldn't sleep."_

"_Well, you seem to have no trouble sleeping out here."_

Wanda made a furtive glance in the direction of the bedrooms. She couldn't even bring herself to go anywhere near Natasha's room. She couldn't bear that pain. Not yet. There was nothing in her own room that was of any interest or consequence. A few outfits probably still hung in the closets, or in the dressers, but they could be dealt with at any time.

Tonight, she needed to do nothing but get a few hours' sleep. It was already quite late, and there was another funeral to attend in the morning. A funeral that Wanda would have given the world to avoid. Sighing, she stepped into the living room and flopped down on the large, comfortable couch. She was more likely to sleep here as anywhere. She leaned over, took off her boots and belt, and then stood up to shrug herself out of her long, dark red coat.

"_What can we do about it?"_

"_I don't know."_

"_I mean, what _are _we going to do about it."_

"_Wanda, there's no need for you to get involved in this."_

"_Don't be stupid. Wherever you're going, I'm going with you. You know that."_

Wanda grimaced as if in pain. "Please, please, shut up," she begged the ghosts in her memory. "Let me sleep tonight, okay? Just... let me sleep. I have to go to a funeral in the morning."

She threw her coat over the far arm of the couch, and then lay down on the couch fully dressed, pulling a heavy quilt up over her.

Mercifully, the voices in Wanda's head silenced themselves, and she closed her eyes. The next time she opened them, morning sunlight was streaming in through the windows.

Wanda could barely function that morning. She bathed and dressed, reluctantly. Her stomach had soured overnight, and so had her disposition, both brought on by emotional distress. Breakfast was a glass of water. Clint came to the apartment building to pick her up, and she was just barely ready when he arrived.

As she got into the car, Wanda was surprised to see it was just Clint and his oldest daughter, Lila, going to the service.

"Laura's staying back at the hotel with the boys," Clint explained tersely. "One funeral is about all they can handle."

Wanda nodded sympathetically. She glanced in the back seat. Lila was dressed all in black, with impenetrable dark sunglasses to hide her eyes. She was holding herself far too rigid in her seat, and her face was very pale. Wanda felt another twinge in her heart. The boys hadn't known Natasha all that well, but Lila had grown up with 'Auntie Nat'.

"I know this is hard," she murmured in sympathy. "Thank you for coming."

Lila's only response was the barest nod of her head.

The drive to the graveyard was a long one. Wanda could barely sit still and fidgeted restlessly. Yesterday, she just felt numb. Today, she felt like every nerve in her body was on fire. Clint concentrated on his driving and didn't say a word. He looked exhausted.

The graveyard was beautiful, bordered by old growth maple and elm trees. The sky was cobalt blue, the grass and leaves deep green. Wanda felt marginally more tranquil. As they drove up to the spot where the service was to be held, however, Wanda felt an acute pang of dismay as she saw that the gathered mourners was a significantly smaller group than yesterday, barely a dozen in all.

"Where is everyone?" she asked, distraught.

Clint frowned. "This is everyone."

"It can't be. Where's Fury?" she demanded, seeking his face in the group and not finding it. "He should be here. He should -"

"Wanda." Clint called her gently to a halt. "Fury can't be here, he's supposed to be dead. He can't be seen in public."

"He was at the Starks' yesterday."

"That was out in the woods, on private property, far away from everyone. This is a public site." He sighed. "Before Nat was an Avenger, she was an undercover spy. Most of the people she knows and worked with can't be seen here. Not even if they want to be. We have to be here, for the people who can't."

Wanda nodded sadly, agreeing but not assenting. To be mourned by so few - it just felt wrong. Terribly, unforgivably wrong.

The smaller mourning party did provide an intimacy that was noticeably absent from Tony Stark's service. Yesterday, Wanda had interacted with only a few of her teammates and acquaintances, mostly by choice. Today, there was no such option. But she found herself warmly welcomed and the recipient of many tearful hugs. She was shocked to see the changes in some of the people she knew. Thor she barely recognized, at first mistaking him for someone else entirely. What hardships had he endured, she wondered, to change him so drastically?

Bruce Banner had also undergone several striking changes since Wanda had last seen him. With his ruined arm in a sling, and his manner more like his human self, she could barely process that this was the same man she had attacked several years ago. She approached him with great trepidation.

Banner seemed to realize how awkward she felt, and he smiled sadly at her. "It's all right," he grunted softly. "C'mere, little girl. I got no beef with you. Not today. Not ever again."

Hesitantly, Wanda came up close, being careful of his ruined limb, then hugged him as tightly as she could, tears stinging her eyes. Banner draped his one good arm over her, reassuring her that all was forgiven. It was one of the few good moments all day.

The service was all but intolerable for Wanda. Once again, someone she loved had been taken from her. Violently. Horribly. She felt herself seething with rage as much as sorrow. But she gathered Lila protectively in her arms at the graveside, hugging the young woman tightly to her, and Clint did much the same for Wanda. These small gestures did nothing for the pain, but they were still a comfort.

As no one knew Nat's faith, or if she practiced any belief at all, a brief, non-denominational service had been arranged. During the service, Wanda noticed Sam and Maria arm in arm, holding each other close, taking comfort from one another; she wondered idly at what point had they become a couple. Scott Lang and Hope Van Dyne were likewise entwined, and while Wanda barely knew them, it was obvious they were attending not as individual mourners but together, as partners.

At long last, the service ended. Each mourner tossed a handful of earth, or left a flower on the casket. Wanda could barely make it back to the car. She felt weak and sick and disgusted with everyone and everything. Two funerals in two days. She found herself wishing bitterly that the sun would not rise the next day.

No one spoke on the long drive back to New York. Lila, evidently exhausted after two grueling days of services, lay down on the back seat and fell asleep. Wanda and Clint remained wrapped in their own morose thoughts. As they were getting close to Nat's apartment building, Clint gave Wanda a sad smile.

"Listen. Laura and I are gonna stop off at the Stark place to see Pepper first thing tomorrow morning, then we're headed home. You're welcome to come with us."

Wanda struggled to sit upright and managed a wan smile. "I appreciate that, Clint. I do. But there are things I need to take care of here first."

"You know, you're still welcome to come stay with us," he said quietly. "Standing offer. Any time you want. For as long as you want."

"Thank you." Wanda's voice was barely above a whisper. "I might just do that. Once everything is settled here."

"Okay, then." Clint pulled the car into the unloading zone, so Wanda could exit. After she had undone her safety belt, Clint hugged her tightly.

"You take care of yourself, you hear?" he murmured tenderly. "And if you need anything, anything at all, you call me."

"I will," Wanda promised. "I love you, Clint."

"I love you too. Stay safe."

After an awkward exchange of hugs with Lila across the passenger seat, Wanda finally climbed from the car, and re-entered the apartment building where she would be staying for the immediate future. After she re-entered the apartment, she didn't look at anything, just flung herself down on the couch, and slowly curled herself up into a near-fetal position. Without realizing it, she fell asleep.

Wanda awoke some time later, feeling disoriented and borderline ill. A glance out the window indicated the sun was setting. She hadn't eaten since - when did she last eat? - she couldn't remember. And she was likely dehydrated as well. Realizing there was probably no edible food in the apartment, she sighed despairingly. She would have to go out somewhere for food. She wasn't even certain she had any money with her for purchases.

She pushed herself up off the couch, brushed back her hair with her hands, and likewise smoothed out her rumpled clothing as best she could. She could tackle the cupboards and the freezer, at least, and see if there was anything from which she could improvise a long overdue meal. She had just entered the kitchen when there was a light rapping on the front door. Bemused, Wanda went to the door and opened it, too groggy to remember to check through the peephole first. Nick Fury was standing in the hallway, carrying a large brown paper bag with rope handles. Wanda's mouth dropped open in surprise.

After she'd stared at him for nearly a full thirty seconds, Fury shook his head disapprovingly.

"Well?" he demanded. "Are you gonna just stand there with your mouth hanging open like some damn beached fish, or are you gonna let me in?"

He hoisted the large bag he was carrying. "Brought you some dinner. There's a little shawarma place a couple of blocks from here. Good eats. And you haven't eaten anything in days, have you?"

Still trying to kick-start her own brain into gear, Wanda stepped to one side to allow Fury to enter. He stepped inside, set the bag on the counter and regarded his friend with a decidedly worried look. He sighed.

"You look like hell."

Wanda glowered at him as she closed the apartment door. "Gee, thanks, Nick. A girl always loves to hear that."

"I'm doing you no favors by telling you lies, Wanda. Y'all need to start taking serious care of yourself, and I mean _now."_

"Yes, sir." Wanda couldn't argue with that one.

"So, how was the service?"

Wanda paused, thinking. Good or bad really didn't apply to an experience like this one.

"I wanted to scream all the way through it," she answered finally.

Fury nodded sympathetically. "Don't blame you. I guess I'd want to do the same." He started to take the packages out of the bag and laid them on the counter.

"Nick, what are you doing here?"

"I told you. Bringing you dinner."

"I mean, really."

"Yeah, well..." Fury paused in his activities. "I heard you were plenty pissed at me."

Wanda groaned with dismay. "Oh, Nick, I'm so sorry about that, I didn't mean..."

Wanda's voice trailed off as she looked directly into Nick Fury's face. His manner was outwardly calm, but his expression told the true story. He was heartbroken - every bit as heartbroken as Wanda was. Tears filled Wanda's eyes.

"Oh, Nick."

She hurried to him and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. Fury encircled Wanda in his own arms, and they stood together for several moments, silently weeping, each trying to bring comfort to the other for an inconsolable grief.

Some time later, the two friends sat side-by-side on the long couch, desultorily picking through their plates. Neither had any appetite, but they both knew better than to skip any more meals. Wanda was feeling marginally better, and at least she wasn't eating alone.

"So, who all was at the service?" Nick asked.

Wanda frowned, making a mental note. "Steve. Rhodey. Bruce. Thor. Clint and me, and Clint's daughter, Lila. Scott and Hope. Sam and Maria. Some blue girl..."

"Blue girl?" Fury gave her a bemused look. "You must mean Nebula."

"I guess so," Wanda nodded uncertainly. "And I must have been hallucinating, but I swear there was a raccoon there too."

"Probably was."

"We live on a seriously weird planet, don't we?" Wanda sighed.

"That, my girl, is an absolute fact." Fury took a sip from his soda. "I woke up a couple of days ago, and found out I've missed out on five whole years. That did a number on my skull, I can tell you. I thought Rip Van Winkle was just a story."

"Well, I missed out on five years too, so I guess we both have a lot of catching up to do."

"So, what are you going to do now?"

Wanda sighed. "I guess I'm going to start by finding out if Nat had an executor for her estate. And if she doesn't, I'll try to do that myself - close out any accounts she has, or at least those I can find..."

"That's just paperwork. I mean, what are you going to _do?"_

Wanda shook her head sadly. "I have absolutely no idea. S.H.I.E.L.D. is gone. The Avengers are gone... anybody who survived the fight with Thanos has basically said, 'That's it, I'm done.' Even Steve."

"But not you?" Fury asked.

"I... don't know," Wanda said truthfully. "I'm not sure we could rebuild the team, anyway. Not after the Sokovia accords. Every nation on Earth wanted a piece of us. How did our team become such a political football?"

"Oh, it was always that," Fury assured her. "After the Chitauri invaded New York, you wouldn't believe the kinds of calls I was getting. From the Pentagon, from the President, from the Mayor..." Fury shook his head wearily.

"So, what did you do?"

"Girl, what do you think? I told 'em all to go fuck themselves."

In spite of herself, Wanda burst out laughing. "Honestly, Nick."

Nick looked down his nose at his friend. "Wanda, you've known me long enough now to know, this is how I roll. I would have done the same right after that mess in Lagos, too, except I was too busy recovering from the dozen or so bullet holes that Barnes put in me."

Wanda's expression sombered. "Do you hate him for that?"

"Who, Barnes? No. Barnes was brainwashed. He wasn't making his own decisions. He was as much a victim as I was. Maybe more. I got nothing but pity for James Buchanan Barnes."

"That's a very... enlightened attitude," Wanda said admiringly.

Fury shrugged. "You can't blame a man when he's not calling his own shots."

"And how about you? What are you going to do?"

"Me? I've been 'dead' for at least seven years. Or retired, if you like. I'm in the wind. Of course," he added, shoveling up a last bite of shawarma, "Being 'retired' gives me lots of freedom and flexibility. You know. To go visit old friends now and then."

"I know. And you're very sweet to do that," Wanda smiled.

"Barton tells me that he asked you to move in with his family, and you turned him down."

"That's not true," Wanda protested.

"Isn't it?"

"I said, someday. Maybe."

"Uh-huh. Wanda, you ever see a day of the week called 'someday' on your calendar? 'Someday' is another way of saying, you're never going to get around to it."

"Oh, come on, Nick, it's not like that."

"Is there some reason you don't want to move in with the Bartons?"

"Of course not. I love them with all my heart. It's... it's just..." Wanda faltered.

"Just what? You're family, as far as they're concerned. And you obviously feel the same."

Wanda cast her eyes downward. "Nick..." she sighed, blinking back fresh tears. "Any time I call someone family, I _lose_ them."

"Wanda..."

"I can't lose them too, Nick, I just can't," Wanda said, her voice shaking.

"Wanda? Look at me. I said, _look_ at me."

Wanda slowly raised her head and looked at Nick, hot tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Your family is larger than you know," Nick said solemnly. "And every one of us is willing to do anything we can, to aid and comfort you. You are not alone, Wanda Maximoff. You have people who love and care about you. We're your family, every one of us. And we _will_ be there for you. You understand me?"

Wanda nodded tearfully. "Yeah. I do."

"Good. Because I don't need to be bailing your ass out every time you start feeling sorry for yourself. I got better things to do." Abruptly, Fury's exaggerated gruffness vanished. "We need you too, Wanda," he confided quietly. "Whatever happens to us next, we _need_ you to be there."

"I will be," Wanda promised, wiping her eyes.

"Okay, then," Fury nodded, satisfied. He sat back, taking a moment to compose himself as well. "Now, as far as Tasha's pension, retirement plans and other savings goes, Maria should be able to get any information you need, at least as far as S.H.I.E.L.D. is concerned. The organization may be gone, but the paperwork lasts forever." He made a face. "Whatever else she may have had besides that... well, you'll have to find that on your own."

"I'll call you, if I need anything."

"One other thing." Fury fixed Wanda with a hard stare from his one good eye. "Before she joined S.H.I.E.L.D., Tasha was a spy. And an assassin. For a very long time. You be careful when you're digging. There could be lots of time bombs buried in her past. Things even I don't know about. Dangerous things."

"Understood," Wanda bobbed her head solemnly.

"And don't be afraid to call for backup. The Avengers may not be a team any more, but a lot of people from that team are still around. If things get dicey, we can always network them in to give you a hand."

The two friends finished their dinner, then made their farewells; and shortly after Fury left, Wanda sat in the empty apartment, staring out at the silhouette of the city skyline. Something Fury said had stuck with her, and she turned it over and over in her mind, considering its unintended significance.

"Network," she murmured to herself thoughtfully.


	3. Chapter 3

For the second time in as many days, Wanda awoke on the couch in the living room of Natasha's apartment. She rolled onto her side, staring out the window at the sprawling skyline. She decided she wasn't going to miss this place, only the person she shared it with. And now, she wanted to be done with it. As quickly as possible.

She showered, found some suitable clothes in her old bedroom, and then foraged in the kitchen for anything that might still be edible. As Wanda feared, Natasha had only infrequently visited the apartment in the last couple of years, and there was next to the nothing in the pantry that was salvageable.

Breakfast first, Wanda told herself sternly, even if that meant going out. She had no appetite whatsoever but Fury was right. She needed to start taking better care of herself. And the germ of an idea was growing in her mind - there was so much work to be done. She found a few loose bills in the drawer of the writing desk. Not much, but enough to buy breakfast and a few groceries. Wanda hurried away, anxious to get started.

A short time later, she returned with a bagful of fresh produce and a few other items. Then, after a hastily improvised breakfast of tea, a croissant and a small bowl of fruit, Wanda began the process of cleaning out the apartment in earnest. Nearly everything in the kitchen was discarded, save for a few cooking utensils. She started keeping a list of items to be donated, everything to be thrown away was piled up near the door. If she came across anything she wanted to save for herself, she would throw it in her old bedroom for now. She decided once she was ready to have the lease terminated, she could coordinate with the apartment staff to either sell or donate the furniture.

Wanda worked with a single-mindedness of purpose, not allowing herself to become distracted or start thinking about Natasha, fearing she would collapse under an overwhelming tidal wave of grief. She promised herself she could cry later.

That didn't stop her from pausing at the door of Natasha's bedroom with a feeling very like dread. It was one thing to clean up a kitchen or a living room. But she was about to enter an intimate space, and everything could potentially be an emotional trigger. Taking a few deep breaths, Wanda squared her shoulders and stepped inside.

She needn't have worried. The bedroom, like the rest of the apartment, had been long ago abandoned. A few outfits hung in the closet. A few simple toiletries were found in the drawer of the master bathroom. Only a framed picture on the nightstand gave Wanda a twinge of pain: herself and Natasha, at a farmers market, two years ago - no, seven, now. Wanda kept forgetting: she'd lost five years in the blink of an eye. The two faces were smiling back at her, laughing, so full of joy. Momentary tears blinded Wanda, but she was determined to carry on, no matter the heartbreak. She put the picture in her own room. "Mine now," she said aloud.

She started going through the dresser drawers. Nothing exceptional. A few seldom-used slacks, carefully folded, and some undergarments. At the bottom of the last drawer Wanda found a tablet. Bemused, she took it out, and yelped with surprise as the screen lit up.

"_Device encrypted,"_ a computerized voice declared. "_Please provide authentication."_

"Uhh..." Wanda sat on the edge of the bed, holding the tablet in both hands. "Wanda Maximoff?" she said uncertainly.

"_Face and voice recognition authenticated. Maximoff, Wanda. Please provide password."_

Wanda drew in a sharp breath. She'd never seen this tablet before, she was sure of that. Which could only mean that Natasha had deliberately left it behind, and added her as an authenticated user for this device. But why?

"_Please provide password,"_ the voice repeated.

Realizing the device probably had a timeout on the login attempt, Wanda struggled to think what password Natasha might have meant. Then it came to her. Obvious, really.

"Paprikash," she said.

"_Password accepted. Device unlocking."_

After a moment, the home screen of the device appeared. A grid of several small tiles, each with Natasha's face in a slightly different setting, and each with a unique time and date stamp.

It was a video diary.

"Oh, my God," Wanda whispered hoarsely.

Wanda made a cursory scroll through the entries. The diary was kept for a period of roughly eighteen months, with the most recent entry being made slightly over three years ago. There were about forty entries in all during that period.

Heart pounding, Wanda pressed the tile to playback the most recent entry made.

The video loaded in a matter of seconds. The background appeared to be some kind of office. Wanda didn't recognize it. The entry certainly had not been recorded inside the apartment.

Natasha came into view, seating herself in a chair directly in front of the camera. Wanda had to blink furiously to keep her tears away. Natasha stared into the camera for a long moment without speaking. Then, with a ragged sigh, she began.

"Okay. Today's the 27th. Of April. And it's been... two years since Thanos wiped out half of all life on Earth. Right? Yeah. Two _very_ long years." She paused. "And, if what I'm being told now is true, it's not just Earth. All life in the galaxy - maybe the universe - was impacted, too. I can't even wrap my head around that."

Natasha picked up a teacup from the desk in front of her, and took a long sip before continuing. "Believe it or not, I'm leading the Avengers now. Most days I'm not sure I believe that, either. But... here I am. The boss in the big chair." She rolled her eyes at her own comment, and then grew more serious. "I have the most incredible team. Great people. And not just on Earth. The Avengers have a presence in other parts of the galaxy now. I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around that, too."

She set the cup down. "Steve asks me why I still do it. I mean, what's done is done, right? And I don't have an answer. I guess it's because... I don't know what else to do. A wise man once said, 'Always do whatever's next.' But that's the hard part, isn't it? Knowing what's next. A lot of us are having trouble figuring that one out. And, uhh, that includes me too, I guess."

She stared for a moment at something off-camera, as if distracted; when she looked into the camera again, she had a flicker or the old laser-like focus in her eyes that she used to have. Total concentration, totally in the moment. "I'm not the person I was. I'm not the Avenger I used to be. I'm certainly not the assassin I used to be. Thank God," she added quickly. "But... I have no sense of my _self_ any more. I don't really know who I am now. Or who I'm supposed to be. Complete and total vacuum."

Natasha smiled into the camera. "I don't regret this. Any of this. But sometimes..." she sighed. "Okoye is probably the closest thing to a friend I have right now. But she's on the other side of the planet. Carol is almost always on the other side of the galaxy. And then there's Nebula." She sighed again, deeper this time. "God. I want to like her, I really do, but... Jesus. I thought _I_ was intense." Natasha shook her head slightly, smiling, obviously remembering previous interactions with Nebula.

"Steve drops by. From time to time. He says he's done. Some days, I believe him. I hear from Bruce every once in a while. He thinks he may have found a... treatment... for his condition. I hope so. I don't see them much, but Pepper and Tony have a kid now, a little girl, and right now their lives are all about her. And that's good. That's good," she repeated, bobbing her head slightly. "Thor... Thor's not talking to anyone. I've had everybody looking for Clint for months. We know he survived the snap, but... I..." she paused for a long moment, swallowing hard.

"I miss my friends," she confessed at last. "Even the ones who are still alive, they're, well, they're just... gone." She faltered over the word. "And most of all, I miss Wanda. She was the first woman to join the team after me. She was my BFF. We used to go shopping together. Cooking. Hanging out. When we weren't busy saving the world. I miss that. I miss her." She smiled sadly. "She made me feel like it was all worth it. I never told her that. I wish I had. I wish I'd told her, every day, how much joy she brought to my life. I hope somehow she knows that. God, I hope she knows."

Natasha stared directly into the camera, eyes tear-bright, but full of steely resolve. "I would give anything to bring her back," she said quietly. "To bring them all back. I'd do anything. Anything at all."

She remained staring into the camera for a long moment, a wave of emotion flickering across her face. Then she reached up, to shut the camera off and end the entry.

The screen went dark.

Wanda sat in front the screen for a long time, almost numb. Slowly, huge tears began to well in her wide eyes. She knew what was coming next, and she couldn't stop it. She dropped her head into her hands and began to cry, with great, heartbroken sobs for which there is no comfort.

It took Wanda nearly an hour to cry herself to exhaustion. When she finally stopped, she grabbed several facial tissues, daubed her eyes, blew her nose, and took several deep, cleansing breaths to compose herself - a trick that Natasha had taught her.

She got up from the bed, and went into the living room. Going over to the desk, she opened the drawer, took out a pad of paper and a pen, and returned to the couch. Still sniffling slightly, she set the paper on the coffee table in front of her, clicked the pen, and, after a moment's hesitation, began to painstakingly write out a list of names.

Clint Barton. Bruce Banner. Sam Wilson. Maria Hill. Nick Fury. James Rhodes. Scott Lang. Hope Van Dyne. Stephen Strange. Okoye. T'Challa. Valkyrie.

Carol Danvers.

As Wanda added Carol's name, she paused for a moment, and then added a notation to the side: "In space?" - then added Thor's name, with the same notation.

Wanda paused, considering. Did she want to add the names of the heroes from worlds other than Earth? Most of whom she knew only by sight? After a moment's consideration, Wanda decided to keep her list Earth-bound - at least for now.

She frowned, thinking hard. There was also that very young man, the one in the red and blue suit with the spider motif. She had no idea what his name was, but she needed to track him down, too. After a moment's consideration, she added the name, "Spider-Kid." And Steve's friend, the one with the metal arm. Barnes. Bucky Barnes. Sam would know how to reach him.

Finally, she added one last name: Pepper Stark.

Wanda looked at that name for a very long time.

Would Pepper want any association with a new team? She'd already made the ultimate sacrifice. Her future, with her husband. What could Wanda possibly say to her, to secure a commitment of any kind?

And then it struck her. It wasn't time to ask for Pepper's help. It was time to ask what she could do to help Pepper.

She sat back for a long moment, looking at all the names she'd written down. She stood up.

"Okay," she told herself with renewed conviction. "Time to move on to whatever's next."


	4. Chapter 4

"Heeey! There she is!"

Bruce Banner looked up from his workbench to see Wanda entering the gamma ray laboratory from the far door. His smile bared both gumlines. "I'm so glad you called," he said, ambling over to meet her. "We didn't really get a chance to talk at the funeral. Funerals," he corrected himself somberly.

"Hello, Bruce. It's good to see you."

"Yeah, it's good to see you, too."

Wanda hugged him as tightly as she could, seeing as she couldn't get her arms around his torso. Bruce draped his one good arm over her to give the best hug he could manage in return. When they released each other, Bruce looked her over admiringly.

"Look at you," he declared. "All dressed up and professional."

Wanda was wearing a simple powder blue blouse, dark skirt down to the knee and matching blazer jacket, with modest pumps - about as far from an Avenger uniform as could be imagined.

"Blue looks good on you," Bruce said. "You should wear it more often."

Wanda smiled at the compliment. "Thanks."

"So, what, you applying for a job, or something?"

Wanda gave him a teasing grin. "What if I am?"

"I'd hire you." His expression sombered. "I wasn't sure if I was gonna hear from you," he admitted. "It's been a week since the service."

"Sorry. I really did want to come visit you sooner. But I've been... busy."

"Oh, yeah? Doing what?"

"Trying to take care of Nat's estate."

Bruce made a face. "Oh, man. I'm sorry. That sucks."

"Actually, it's been... interesting."

"How so?"

"Well, I know in her past life she was a spy, but..." Wanda shook her head. "I can't find any documentation on her. Like, none. At all."

"Well, spies do know how to cover their tracks, right?"

"Yeah, but this is ridiculous. There wasn't one single shred of paper in that apartment. And I turned the place upside down. I can't even find a copy of the lease. There's no record of any bank accounts, and even the money she was getting from S.H.I.E.L.D. was going to some kind of drop box, which is now closed."

"Maybe she kept all her stuff at Avengers HQ," Bruce suggested. "She was kinda living there, you know. The apartment was just a crash pad."

"Maybe," Wanda nodded. "But if her paperwork was at the Avengers facility, it's gone now, isn't it?" She hesitated for a moment, and then added, "There's something else."

"Yeah? What?"

"Bruce... she kept a diary. A video diary. I found it on a tablet in her bedroom."

Bruce gave her a dismayed look. "In her bedroom? It's not like, uhh, sex tapes and stuff, is it?"

"No, no, nothing like that," Wanda shot him a reproving glance in return. "It looks like a short time after the snap happened, she started keeping a video journal, to keep herself sane, I guess."

"You watch it?"

"Only one entry. Then I had to bawl like a baby for the rest of the day."

"Yeah. I don't think I could watch that, either," Bruce admitted. "You got time for a coffee?"

He gestured towards the outdoor patio, adjacent to the lab.

Wanda gave him a grateful smile. "I'd love one. Thanks."

They walked outside. It was an absolutely perfect morning, warm sun with just a hint of a cool breeze. The patio was mostly an enclosed space, with white lab walls on three sides, but the grass, a modest flower bed and a large shade tree made it a comfortable, welcoming spot. A coffee urn and several mugs were already available atop the patio table. One chair and one mug were hugely oversized, to accommodate Banner's physique.

They got their coffee and then settled into chairs across from each other.

"Bruce... before we get to the reason I'm here, I need to say something."

Bemused, Bruce shrugged. "Shoot."

"I need to apologize to you. A proper apology."

"Oh, hey, wait, stop right there," Bruce exclaimed, holding up a hand. "We've been over this. What happened between us, it's ancient history. You got nothing to apologize for."

"I'm very glad you feel that way, Bruce, but I really need to say this. Please let me say this."

Sighing, Bruce sat back in his chair, and nodded his assent.

"Bruce... what I did to you, it was hurtful. And terrible. And wrong. My actions not only harmed you, but also our friends, and dozens of innocent bystanders. If I could somehow take it back, I would. All I can do is tell you how sorry I am, and I am sorry, Bruce. If there's something, anything I can do to make this right, please, _please_ tell me."

Bruce waited for a moment, and then asked, "Is that it? That's your whole spiel?"

Wanda smiled ruefully. "Pretty much, yeah."

"Okay, then. I forgive you. Unreservedly."

"Thank you."

Bruce held up a massive finger. "On one condition."

"Name it."

"You gotta drop that guilt trip of yours. Johannesburg was years ago. You keep hanging on to that guilt, and you really will cripple yourself. You don't want that. Trust me. I know a thing or two about being crippled."

"Okay."

"I mean it, Wanda. You gotta forgive yourself. I forgave you a long time ago. So do yourself a favor, and do the same. Let it go. Let's just say, we both made some stupid mistakes when we were younger, and leave it at that."

Wanda gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you, Bruce. I just - I needed to say that out loud."

"Got it. Now that we've cleared that stink outta the air, what did you want to see me about?"

"I could really use your help with a couple of things."

"I'm all yours."

Wanda took a long sip from her coffee cup before responding. "I, uhh, talked to Clint a few days ago," she began haltingly. "About maybe keeping the team together."

"Let me guess. He wasn't interested."

Wanda looked at Bruce in surprise, and he gave a helpless shrug. "Hey. He's got a family. And the time and inclination to stay with them. I coulda told you that."

"I was wondering if _you_ might be interested," Wanda suggested shyly.

Bruce shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Hey, don't get me wrong, you may not have noticed this, but I'm not exactly firing on all cylinders these days."

"You lost the use of your arm, Bruce, but you're far from useless. And I could really use your help."

Bruce scratched his brow, in a gesture of perplexion. "You're really serious about this?"

"Absolutely."

"Damn. You got stones, kid. I'll say that for ya. I have to be honest, though. I wouldn't be any use to you in a fight. Not these days."

"Maybe not, but I need someone who can be the brains of the group, not the brawn."

Bruce gave her a bemused look, then burst out laughing. "I gotta admit, I never thought of myself that way before," he admitted.

"Does the idea appeal to you at all?" Wanda pressed.

"Maybe," Bruce allowed. "But, in full disclosure, I'm not a techno whiz like Stark was."

"I don't need you to be. I just need someone I can trust, and someone who can translate technobabble for me if it gets too deep."

Bruce nodded thoughtfully. "I could do that. Thank you for the trust thing, by the way. You do realize, any new team would be starting from ground floor. We've got nothing, and that's probably not going to change."

"That's all right. I had something different in mind."

"Let's hear it."

"We can't build a team like the old one. For one thing, if we announced to the world that a new Avengers team has been put together, every politician on the planet who wants to make a name for himself is going to hold up a copy of the Sokovia accords."

"That's true enough," Bruce agreed. He gave her a sympathetic look. "That musta been a particular burn for you."

Wanda shrugged. "It galled me, yes. But there are more important things to worry about."

"So, what's your plan?"

"We have no HQ, no organizational structure. So we turn that to our advantage. We become the team that's not a team."

Bruce frowned. "Sorry, I'm not following."

"I'm thinking of a loose and very covert network of friends and former Avengers who just come together whenever the need arises. Strictly unofficial as far as the public is concerned. Maybe a situation calls for only two or three of us. Maybe it calls for all of us. Each of us can reach out to the others on an as-needed basis."

"Yeah, but we have that already, don't we? I mean, you just pick up the phone and call someone."

"Phone calls can be traced and monitored. I was thinking of a secured, private network for staying in contact."

"Sure, that's easy enough," Bruce nodded. "That kinda technology's been around for decades."

"I was wondering if you could take a stab at coming up with some private communications devices for us, and the relay that connects them planet-wide."

"I told you. That technology already exists. We don't need to reinvent that wheel."

"No, but we would need to set up our own private wheel, and that would take time and effort... right?"

"Yeah, it definitely would," Bruce agreed.

"Would you be willing to look into it for me?"

"Sure thing."

"Thank you."

"So if you're really serious about moving ahead with this... who ya gonna ask?"

Wanda shrugged. "Anyone who's ever been an Avenger. Or associated with them. At least... those of us based on Earth."

"Gimme a fer instance."

"Rhodey. Scott and Hope. Sam and Maria. Doctor Strange. You," Wanda added with a smile. "And that Spider-boy, assuming I can find him. I was even thinking of reaching out to King T'Challa, and see if he'd be willing to let Okoye stay on. She worked with Nat for years."

"You talk to any of 'em yet?"

"Apart from Clint, you're the first," Wanda admitted.

"Think you'll get enough bites to make it worth while?"

"I don't know," Wanda said honestly. "All I can do is ask. See where we go from there."

"You really want to take this on?" Bruce asked with concern. "This is kind of a big deal, Wanda. And once you're in, you can't really back out."

Wanda smiled sadly. "Clint and Nat took a lot of personal risk to bring me onto the team," she said. "The least I can do now is try to pay it forward."

"Ahh... _now_ we're getting down to it. You feel an obligation to them."

"Honestly, I would be delighted if we never had to suit up again, for anything. But it almost never works out that way."

"No, it surely doesn't," Bruce agreed sadly. "Okay, Wanda, I'm in. Whatever I can do for you, I'm yours."

"Thank you, Bruce," Wanda said with genuine gratitude.

"Just so long as you understand, what you're trying to do is impossible."

"Hey, we're the Avengers, right?" Wanda shot back with a grin. "We eat impossible for breakfast."

Bruce burst out laughing. "Ha! Swagger! I _love_ it!"

"And thank you for this. It really means a lot to me, to have a founding member of the Avengers to turn to for counsel."

"I'm happy to help." He gave her an unexpectedly tender smile. "I gotta say, I'm kinda liking this new direction our relationship is taking."

"Yeah, me too." Wanda returned the smile willingly. She got up to leave.

"Who ya gonna call on next?" Bruce asked.

"I thought I'd try Doctor Strange," Wanda answered. "He's the next person closest to here."

"Ooh. Well, be careful with that one."

"Why? Is there a problem?"

"No, no problem. But Strange works with magic. I mean, real magic. Serious mind-bending stuff," Bruce said, also getting to his feet. "He's an honest-to-God sorcerer."

Wanda grinned. "Well, then he ought to be willing to talk to a Scarlet Witch."

"Lemme know how that goes. And call me, if you need anything."

"I will," Wanda promised. "And thank you again, Bruce. For everything."

She turned to go, but Bruce called after her. "Hey. Wanda."

"Yeah?"

"You gonna be okay?"

Wanda found herself blinking back unexpected tears at the look of concern on her friend's face.

"Yeah," she answered. "I'm okay. Really. I am. I..." she faltered for a moment. "I'm really, really sad," she admitted in a breaking voice. "And... I'm going to miss her. For a very long time."

Bruce inclined his massive head sorrowfully. "Yeah. Me too."

Wanda quickly walked over to Bruce and hugged him tightly. As she had done before with Clint, she leaned up on tiptoe to leave a kiss on his cheek.

"I'll talk to you soon," she promised.

"Looking forward to it."

Bruce watched her leave with a wistful expression on his face. He didn't notice as a technician came up behind him.

"Uhh... excuse me? Doctor Banner?"

Bruce came to with a start. "Yeah?"

"They're ready for you in the conference room."

"Oh. Oh, yeah. Great. Thanks. I'll be right there."

He still seemed distracted, so the technician asked, "Are you all right, sir?"

With an effort, Bruce waved away his reverie. "Never better," he replied with a smile. "Come on, let's go."

They left the room together.


	5. Chapter 5

When Wanda arrived at the Sanctum Sanctorum of Doctor Strange, she marveled at how inconspicuous the front of the building seemed. She'd seen aerial photographs of the building, and the surrounding neighborhood, many times before. And from that wider perspective, the Sanctum was an attractive and fairly impressive structure. But at street level, the entrance was decidedly nondescript. Wanda had to check the street address twice, to make sure she had the right place. She did. She wondered idly if the drab appearance was deliberate, some form of mystical camouflage. She rang the doorbell and stepped back.

A few moments later, she could hear a deadbolt being drawn back, and the door opened to reveal a surprisingly burly, middle-aged oriental man.

"Hello," Wanda said shyly. "I'm looking for -"

"It's _you,"_ the man gasped, in evident awe. "It's really you." He held up both his hands, and Wanda wasn't sure if that was a request to stay where she was, or a gesture of abject surrender. "Please, wait here," he pleaded. "I know he'll want to see you. I just need to make sure he's free to see you."

He hurried away, leaving the door slightly ajar. Unable to contain her curiosity, Wanda leaned in slightly; she couldn't really see anything in the passageway beyond, but she could hear, very faintly, a conversation taking place in a nearby room.

"Who is it, Wong?"

"It's _her,"_ came the excited reply. "The girl who kicked Thanos' ass!"

"Which one? Danvers or Maximoff?"

"How would I know?"

"You could have asked." There was a distinctly exasperated sigh. "Blonde or redhead?"

"Redhead."

"That would be Miss Maximoff. Please show her in."

The man named Wong returned to the door. "Please come in," he invited Wanda. "He's in the parlor. Just to your left."

"Thank you," Wanda said, stepping into the foyer. "And actually, I didn't kick Thanos' ass. Not completely."

"You did. You totally did," Wong insisted. "We were there. We saw you. You were amazing."

"Thanks," Wanda smiled shyly. "I think."

As she entered the parlor, Doctor Stephen Strange was busy stamping out charred remnants of a still-smoldering floor rug with his boots. There was a lingering trace of acrid smoke in the air.

"Uhh, is everything all right in here?" Wanda asked with some concern.

Doctor Strange looked up and gave Wanda an embarrassed smile. "It is now. Please pardon the mess," he said apologetically. "You never quite know when demons are going to attack. You disappear for five years, and suddenly they think they own the place."

"I guess so," Wanda agreed dubiously.

Satisfied that the embers of the rug were now safely put out, Doctor Strange walked over to Wanda and took her hands in his. "You must forgive me, I was unable to attend Miss Romanoff's funeral service last week. There were... other matters that demanded my immediate attention."

"Of course."

"I was hoping you might be able to express my sincerest condolences to her family."

"You just did," Wanda said, giving him her warmest smile. "And thank you."

"Will you sit?"

They settled themselves in two comfortable upholstered chairs facing each other at the far end of the parlor, well away from the charred remnants of carpet on the other side of the room.

"Is this how I'm going to be remembered?" Wanda wondered aloud as she sat down. "As 'the girl who kicked Thanos' ass'?"

Doctor Strange smiled. "I would imagine there are far worse ways to be remembered. If it's any comfort to you, I witnessed several million possible outcomes of the final battle with Thanos. And while we only prevailed in one of those outcomes, in almost every single instance you single-handedly overcame him, and forced him to retreat. He was simply no match for you."

"Several million?" Wanda repeated numbly.

"Actually, the exact number was fourteen million, six hundred and five."

"That many."

"Yeah."

"But I never actually _stopped_ him? Not in _millions_ of tries?"

"There was only one outcome where we prevailed. The one we just lived through."

"So, I really should be known as 'the girl who _almost_ kicked Thanos' ass.'"

"Next time, you should just kick him in the nuts," Wong suggested, as he set down a tea tray on the low table nearest to Wanda.

"Wong." Strange grimaced in embarrassment.

"God. Please tell me there isn't going to be a next time," Wanda cringed.

"Not from Thanos, no. That threat is ended. At least... in our lifetimes," Strange assured her.

Wanda frowned in puzzlement. "How could you possibly know that?"

Strange shrugged. "At any given time, I can see all possible outcomes of future events, in order of their probability."

"Seriously. You can see the future," Wanda gaped.

"I see _possible_ futures," Strange clarified. "But like you, or anyone else, I don't actually know what the future will be, until it arrives and becomes the present."

"That must be confusing at times," Wanda said sympathetically.

"I try not to pay it any mind. Unless, of course, I have to."

Wanda grinned. "So, is it fair to say you already know why I'm here?"

"You want to ask about my future involvement with the Avengers."

"I can see you're going to make this easy for me."

"Well, actually, at the risk of giving offense, I'm going to say no."

"Oh." Wanda couldn't help a small exclamation of disappointment.

"With a proviso."

"Fair enough. What is it?"

"Wong and I... how can I put this? We have a very specialized area of expertise. And it keeps us very busy. Busy enough that I'm afraid we would be of rather limited use to you and your colleagues. And we do have five years of work to catch up on." He smiled apologetically.

"Maybe we could help you with that," Wanda suggested.

"I really wish you could," Strange said in all sincerity. "But this is work meant only for sorcerers and magicians. Without an intimate knowledge of magic, you would just be placing yourselves in unnecessary danger. You'll have to take my word, it would be best to leave these sorts of things to Wong and myself."

He sighed and shifted slightly in his chair. "Now, having said that, there will almost certainly be times when some mystical, magical or demonic threat requires both your attention and mine. And when those occasions arise, I would be more than happy to work with you, and your team." He gave her a pleading look. "I'm hoping that decline was polite enough that you don't think I'm a complete asshole. I've been told I have that tendency at times."

Wanda smiled. "I'm disappointed, of course," she admitted. "But no, your refusal wasn't rude."

"I'm glad. In fact, in the not too distant future, there is a very high probability that you and I will be working together. But in the meantime, you'll have your threats to deal with, and I'll have mine. Where they intersect, you can most certainly count on my help."

"I can't ask for more than that," Wanda assured him. "Thank you." She gave him a wry grin. "I'm going to guess I probably shouldn't ask about those future events?"

"It would be best to let them happen when they happen," Strange agreed with a chagrined smile.

Wong could contain himself no longer. "Can I get your autograph?" he asked Wanda.

* * *

Having received a 'definite maybe' from Doctor Strange, Wanda turned to the next name on her list: Colonel James Rhodes. 'Rhodey', as he was better known to all the Avengers, was scheduled to be in New York for two days, and Wanda had arranged to meet with him. When Wanda caught up with him that afternoon in his hotel lounge, it was so strange to see him in civilian clothing, instead of a military uniform or the combat suit that Tony Stark had created for him.

"Rhodey." Wanda pulled him close in a fierce hug. "So good to see you."

"Good to see you too, Wanda. You're looking great."

"I'm so happy I was able to catch you while you were in New York."

"You were just lucky, I guess."

"So, what brought you up here?"

"Doctor's orders, actually."

"Nothing serious, I hope," Wanda murmured with concern.

"Depends on your definition," Rhodey answered, somewhat cryptically. Seeing Wanda's worried lock, he sighed and launched into a terse explanation. "I've just received my medical discharge from the military."

"Why?" Wanda could scarcely conceal her dismay. "What happened?"

"Well, Thanos happened, actually. And Germany. And about a half dozen other things."

"Oh, my God, Rhodey."

"It's cool. Really. I've been expecting to hear this news for a while now. Hell. I wouldn't even be walking at all, if it wasn't for the prosthetics Tony developed for me." In spite of himself, Rhodey couldn't keep the pain and disappointment out of his voice. "I've sustained so many injuries over the years that the doctors finally gave me an ultimatum. The only work I would be cleared to do at the DoD was a desk assignment. I said no thanks, and in effect took early retirement."

"Rhodey, I'm so sorry. I had no idea."

"Well... it's all gonna work out, I guess. The doctors say as long as I don't put any more stress on what's left of my body, I can expect to keep walking for the rest of my life. With the help of Stark's gizmos, that is." He forced himself to smile. "So. What did you want to see me about?"

"Rhodey, I feel terrible," Wanda confessed. "I was going to ask about having you join a new Avengers team, but that just feels so horribly inappropriate right now."

"Damn." Rhodey sighed heavily. "Well... I would sure like to help you, Wanda. More than I can tell you," he said sadly. "But the doctors have told me that if I want to keep any quality of life at all, then I have to be done. So... I'm done. The spirit is willing, but the flesh and the bone... well, there's just not enough left to go play superhero any more."

Wanda's eyes filled with tears. "Rhodey, I'm so sorry. I - I don't know what to say."

"Hey, hey, don't be like that," Rhodey murmured, giving her a quick hug. "I'm not dead, I'm not dying, I'm just taking retirement on doctors' orders. Yeah, it sucks, but it's not the end of the world. Not by a long shot. You and I have _seen_ the end of the world. And we lived through that, right?"

"What are you going to do now?" Wanda asked, anguished.

"I don't know yet," Rhodey said thoughtfully. "But definitely, counting my blessings."

* * *

Wanda returned to her rental car, dispirited. Of course she knew there was a high probability that many former members of the team would take this opportunity to step down. But she'd already lost the better part of one day, without getting a firm commitment from anyone besides Bruce Banner. Her former teammates had reasons, good reasons, to say no. But it was still disappointing. She sighed as got behind the wheel and buckled herself in. She had conference calls scheduled with Okoye, and Scott and Hope, first thing in the morning. Hopefully those conversations would bear some fruit.

Wanda checked her side mirrors carefully before pulling the vehicle out of its parking space. She was still relatively inexperienced with driving, and had only done so on rare occasions. But she had a feeling that she was likely to get considerably more practice in the future. She decided to try giving Sam Wilson a call. Sam and Maria had returned to D.C. immediately after the funerals, but they were in the same time zone, and Wanda was expecting to hit fairly heavy traffic on her way back to Natasha's apartment. Wanda was almost certain she could count on Sam's participation. For one thing, in the entire time she'd known him, Sam always had the same answer for any request to join an op: "I'm in." And now, Sam had been offered - and accepted - the mantle of Captain America from Steve Rogers. If anyone fit the definition of an Avenger, it was Sam. Wanda touched a control button on her steering wheel, not taking her eyes off the road.

"Call Sam Wilson," she requested from the onboard system.

"_Calling Sam."_

After a few rings, the line picked up.

"Hey, Wanda. What's going on?" Sam's voice. Wanda immediately felt better just hearing it.

"Hey, Sam. Three guesses why I'm calling, and the first two don't count."

Just as she said this, Wanda's eyes flickered towards her rear view mirror. A large, jet black SUV was bearing down on her, far too close, running at collision speed. And what was that mounted on the front of the vehicle - a battering ram?!

Before she could react, the larger vehicle struck Wanda's sedan from behind, sending it into a violent spin. The driver's side airbag deployed, but it smacked Wanda full in the face, both blinding and disorienting her. She could feel that the car was still moving until it impacted again - possibly with a guardrail - and then the motion abruptly stopped.

Before Wanda could even begin to recover herself, she could hear as well as feel a heavy thudding against the driver's side window. There was an explosion of glass shards as the window shattered. Wanda yelped with surprise and fright, instinctively squeezing her eyes shut, even though most of her face was still protected by the crash bag. Then came the acrid smell of gas.

"No, no!" Wanda tried to cry out, but the gas was already numbing her, and as she tried desperately to open her eyes, she still couldn't see anything. "Help!" The last thing she heard clearly before losing consciousness was Sam Wilson's voice, frantically calling out to her.

"Wanda? Wanda, can you hear me? WANDA!"

* * *

Wanda had no idea how long she'd been unconscious. For a long time, she was only aware that she was laying prone on some soft surface. Suddenly remembering the crash, she gasped with fright and tried to open her eyes.

Her vision wouldn't focus at first. She was in a room, she could tell that much, and she was laying on a twin size bed with a soft pillow supporting her head. Her blazer jacket was hung over a wooden chair just at the edge of her line of sight, and her shoes were on the ground next to the chair. She'd been covered with a warm, comfortable hand-knit quilt. The room itself was bare of any other furnishings, and the floor, ceiling, and three of the walls were made of some dull, featureless metal. The fourth was open, but spaced with bars running floor to ceiling, apparently made of the same material. She couldn't see where the light was coming from.

She sat up slowly, head aching, eyes still having difficulty focusing. She couldn't hear anything but she sensed the room she was in was not a room at all, but some kind of crate.

After a few moments, the worst of the pain evaporated and her eyes could focus again. Somewhat unsteadily, she stood up. She was definitely caged. She couldn't see anything beyond the bars, and whatever the main room was, it was in deep shadow. There was something familiar about this space, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

Wanda took quick stock of her own self. She was apparently uninjured, apart from the lingering effects of whatever gas was used to subdue her. Even the crash, as violent as that had been, hadn't left any bruises or scrapes that she could see or feel. She was still fully dressed. Her captors - whoever they were - had only seen fit to remove her jacket and shoes, and had covered her with a quilt. That meant she was wanted alive, and unharmed.

She quickly checked the pockets of her jacket. Her phone and her keys were gone, but she expected as much. She looked around the room again, more awake and alert now. This space was triggering some kind of memory - where had she seen it before?

Unharmed or not, she was still held captive; and for Wanda, this was an untenable situation. She tapped the walls experimentally, then ran her fingers across the smooth surface, trying to estimate what kind of power would be needed to free herself. Tendrils of red mystical energy began to spark from her fingertips.

"I really wouldn't try that, my dear," said a voice. "This room was constructed specifically to contain your powers - which you might remember, as you spent a great deal of time practicing the use of them in here."

Wanda's blood ran cold. She _knew_ that voice. She also knew that the man it belonged to had died, several years ago.

"Where am I?" Wanda demanded, her voice still raspy from the effects of the gas. "And who are you? Show yourself!"

A figure stepped forward out of the shadows, and Wanda felt her heart turn to ice. She was looking at a ghost, no doubt. The face was older, and considerably more careworn, and now had an eyepatch where there used to be a monocle. But there was no mistaking the identity of her captor.

"Hello, Wanda," Baron Wolfgang von Strucker greeted her with a cordial smile. "It's been a very long time."


	6. Chapter 6

Sam Wilson still wasn't entirely at ease with the mantle of Captain America, so it was something of a pleasant surprise to find that the local law enforcement simply accepted him on face value when he arrived at the site where Wanda's car had been run off the road. The officers on scene were deferential and only too willing to help.

It had been several hours since the wreck, and it was now late in the evening. But despite the relatively poor lighting on the roadway, it was obvious that Wanda's rental car had been smashed in by something large and heavy - the back end looked like it had a large bite taken out of it, the indenting was that severe.

"What the hell," Sam muttered in dismay as he looked at it. "No way this was accidental. This was deliberate."

The lead patrol officer, a burly man in his late fifties, nodded. "Nothing on your standard car or truck has anything that'll leave a mark like that. She was rear-ended on purpose - by something meant to break the back axle. Probably to keep her from getting away."

The two men walked over to the driver's side. Sam's worst fears were confirmed as he saw what was little was left of the door.

"Window was smashed in from the outside," the officer pointed to the glass shards all over the floor of the cabin. "And then the locked door was basically just ripped off its hinges. Seat belts were cut with a sharp blade."

Sam gave the officer a worried look. "We can definitely treat this as an abduction, then," he said, which was absolutely the last thing he wanted to confirm. "No blood?"

"None in the car. That's good. I hope. We still have photos on file from Maximoff's arrest in Germany," the officer added. "We can use those for the APB, unless you have something more recent."

"No," Sam shook his head. "She was snapped. What you have on file is up-to-date enough."

"Jeezus," the officer sighed sadly. "Snapped, brought back, then kidnapped. Makes ya think, don't it. The forensics team has already been over the vehicle, just before you got here. We were just waiting for you to take a visual before we moved it. But this looks like a pro job. My bet is we don't find much."

"Whatever you do find, I'd appreciate it if you'd keep me looped."

"Will do, Cap."

The junior officer hurried over, after conferring with the driver of the tow truck that had just arrived. "Your pardon, Cap," he said breathlessly, addressing Sam. "Unless you need anything else, we'd like to get this wreck cleared off the road."

"Yeah. Go ahead. I've seen what I needed."

The junior officer sprinted away, and the older man turned back to Sam.

"I hope you find her, Cap, safe and sound," he said gravely. "But we'll have everybody out looking for her."

"Thank you," Sam said tersely.

The officer seemed to divine that Sam was feeling ill at ease in his new identity, and he smiled reassuringly. "Son... anybody with eyes can see you're not Steve Rogers," he said quietly. "I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say he likely got snapped."

Sam gave the barest nod of his head. That explanation was as good as any. "Something like that."

"Well... for what it's worth to you, as far as the LEOs are concerned, you _are_ Captain America now. And that makes you one of us. You need anything, anything at all, you just ask. We'll help you any way we can."

"Thank you," Sam said, this time with genuine gratitude. "I appreciate that."

"Good luck, Cap."

Sam stepped back so that he could safely turn on the booster jets in his flight pack. As soon as he was in the air, he sent a call to Bruce Banner.

"Up and at 'em, Prof."

"Sam?" Bruce's groggy voice crackled over Sam's earpiece. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Sorry, Prof. This isn't a social call. Wanda's in trouble. I'm on my way to you. Be ready to go, as soon as I get there."

* * *

"Strucker." Wanda's heart almost stopped at the sight of him.

Baron Strucker regarded the young woman thoughtfully from the other side of the bars of Wanda's cell. He sighed. "You're not pleased to see me," he observed sadly.

"I'm _surprised_ to see you," Wanda answered. "You're supposed to be dead."

"A small deception on my part."

"Why?"

Strucker shrugged. "I do not recognize the authority of the Americans to try and sentence me for any war crimes. Whatever I do, is to protect and serve my adopted country from foreign invaders. Feigning death seemed the least bothersome way to continue my important work."

"Ultron said he'd killed you."

"Ultron killed someone who looked very much like me. But then, Ultron killed a great many Sokovians, didn't he."

"You used a decoy."

"You sound surprised. Most politicians and high ranking government officials make use of them."

"What am I _doing_ here?" Wanda demanded angrily. "Why abduct me? If you wanted to see me, why didn't you just contact me? Like any normal person might."

"To be frank... I wasn't sure if you would come willingly."

"What's that supposed to mean? You were never my enemy."

"I am very pleased to hear you say that. I had my doubts."

"Doubts?"

"For years, you have been working alongside Tony Stark and his band of super-powered vigilantes. And apparently, quite willingly. What was I to make of that?"

"Why wouldn't I? I thought you were dead, and after Ultron was destroyed, the Avengers asked me to join them..."

"Wanda... that man _murdered_ your parents," Strucker remonstrated. "You can't simply forgive something like that."

"It wasn't like that," Wanda protested.

"Oh, really? What, then, was it like? Please enlighten me."

"Stark... wasn't the man I thought he was."

"Was?" Strucker frowned at Wanda's use of the past tense. "Something has happened to Tony Stark?"

"Tony Stark died last week," she told him, tears welling in her eyes.

"Tony Stark is dead?" Strucker repeated numbly.

"You must have heard. It would have been on every newscast in the world..."

"I haven't seen..." Strucker began to say, but then his voice faltered. He regarded Wanda's reaction with dismay. "You _grieve_ for him," he murmured incredulously.

"He was my teammate. And my friend. Of _course_ I grieve for him."

"Your _friend_..." Strucker's expression was one of complete bemusement. "Things really have changed for you, haven't they?" He clasped his hands behind his back, musing. "And what of your homeland, Wanda? Are we the enemy now? Will you march us all off to prison, and let the Americans arbitrarily decide the fate of our people, about whom they know nothing at all?"

"I am Sokovian," Wanda growled angrily. "And I always will be."

"I'm pleased to hear you say that much, at least."

"Strucker, if you do not open the door to this cage and release me, I will blast it - and you - to atoms." Wanda's voice was thick with rage.

"I believe you." To his credit, Strucker didn't even flinch. "If half of what I've heard about you is true, your powers have increased exponentially since you and I last met. Doctor List would be so very proud of you."

Wanda felt a twinge in her heart. List, too, was gone - and he and Strucker were the men most responsible for making Wanda the woman she was today. They gave her the powers she now wielded. Trained her in the use of them. All intended, of course, for the purpose of defending the Sokovian homeland - a home Wanda had not returned to since the total destruction of Novi Grad, several years earlier.

Strucker seemed to have come to a decision. "The key to your release is an honest answer to one simple question," he told her.

It was Wanda's turn to show bemusement. "What is it?"

"If I release you, what will do with me?"

"Am I supposed to do something with you?"

"I suppose what I'm really asking is, do you intend to turn me over to the American authorities. Your recent actions strongly suggest you will now support any American position, no matter what villainy they represent."

Wanda regarded Strucker long and hard before answering. "No," she said at last.

"Very well, then."

He turned and called out into the surrounding darkness. "Open the cage," he ordered.

A moment later, there was a slight humming noise, and the bars at the front of the cell began to retract. With great relief, Wanda stepped from the confining space. As she did so, a troubling thought came to her.

"Where am I?" she asked suspiciously.

"You are where you were always _meant_ to be," Strucker answered. "We have brought you home, child. You are back in Sokovia."


	7. Chapter 7

Bruce Banner was only just getting used to having one good arm. He'd already begun the process of adapting and compensating for the basic actions he used to take for granted. Some of them were so ridiculously simple, it was humiliating to even think about them. Changing a shirt. Looping a belt. Toweling off after a shower. Things he used to be able to do without thinking now required attention and effort - and from now on, they always would. And then there was the matter of the pain. Sometimes it was just irksome, other times it was agony. The pain of his ruined arm was never going to go away, but Bruce was getting very good at tuning it out. So after Sam Wilson had called him in the very early morning, Bruce was able to get up, dress himself, and put on a pot of coffee with only minimal discomfort.

When Sam arrived at Bruce's home just before 4 AM, he brought along another colleague: James Buchanan Barnes, a longtime friend of Steve Rogers, but known to most of the rest of the world as the spy-turned-assassin dubbed "The Winter Soldier". To the Avengers and their inner circle, however, he was known simply as "Bucky".

"Come on in, guys," Bruce invited them. "Coffee's in the pot, if you want any."

"Thanks." Sam looked like he hadn't slept all night, which he hadn't. "You remember Bucky?"

"Sure I do. Good ta see ya."

Bruce held out his one good gigantic hand, and Bucky clasped it warmly. "Good to see you too, Bruce. I'm just sorry for the circumstances."

"Last word I got from the cops is the traffic camera feeds you requested will be ready for us in about fifteen minutes," Bruce told them. "I can pull 'em up on the computer as soon as they're ready. I dunno what you said to them, but boy, they sure are eager to help."

"Good to know somebody's still on our side," Sam agreed, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"So, what do we know so far?" Bruce asked.

"Wanda's been taken. And it's not aliens or anything. It's good old nasty human people. Which, in theory, means it should be a lot easier for us to track them. When we get the feeds, we're looking for a large SUV or similar vehicle, probably armored, that has some kind of battering ram or cow-catcher mounted on the front grille. It should be fairly easy to spot. If we can find that vehicle, we can start looking for the people who took Wanda."

"Who'd want to go after Wanda, anyways?" Bruce asked. "First off, she's one of the sweetest people you'd ever meet. Second, she can conjure up so much firepower, anybody would be seriously nuts to mess with her."

"Does she have any enemies that either of you know of?" Bucky asked. "Anyone she's got a bad history with?"

"Most of her bad history was with the Avengers," Sam had to admit. "But she's had a great rapport with everyone since she joined the team. Hell, she even made peace with Tony Stark. I don't know many people who could or would do that."

"May he rest in peace," Bruce added quickly.

"I asked Maria to pull up any old records she had on Wanda before she joined the Avengers. But what little I remember is, anyone we knew about is long gone, as in, dead."

"Literal dead ends, then?" Bucky frowned. "There's no chance this was a random abduction, is there? That the kidnappers didn't know who they were targeting?"

"I don't believe that, do you?" Sam countered. "They _cut_ her out of that car. She didn't go willingly. It also means whoever took her was able to either coerce or subdue her."

"If these people aren't enemies of Wanda's, is it possible they're enemies of the Avengers?"

"Maybe. But as Bruce pointed out, why go after Wanda? She's a high level target who could take apart an entire army with her bare hands. The rest of us would be easy pickings, compared to her. No. They wanted Wanda. I just wish I knew why."

"Sounds like somebody incredibly stupid to me," Bruce snorted.

"Or somebody incredibly desperate," Bucky said grimly.

"Is there anyone else we should call?" Bruce asked Sam. "You wanna bring Clint in on this? Or Scott?"

"Not just yet," Sam said, after a moment's consideration. "Let's see if we can get a solid lead first. I don't want to roll people out of bed unless we have a game plan."

"And what if we need transport other than a car?" Bucky asked. "I'm guessing you guys no longer have any quinjets in good working order."

"No, but Happy told me that the Starks have several smaller private jets we could always borrow, in case of an emergency. I think they have a Gulfstream parked out at a private airfield not too far from here."

"Yeah, it's too bad Rocket couldn't leave one of those fancy spaceships behind," Bruce agreed sadly. "Those were nice. That's a ride I can actually fit in." He made a face. "Ugh."

"What?"

"Ahh, I was just thinking, Pepper and Tony had a lot of their own money tied up in the old HQ," Bruce sighed. "The Starks are rich, but they're gonna feel that. I really wish there was something we could do for Pepper. Things are gonna be hard for her now. Real hard. And for Morgan, too."

Before anyone could reply, there was a soft musical chirrup from Bruce's computer. "And that would be the feed we've been waiting for," he announced. "Let's go see what we can see."

* * *

"You must forgive the manner in which you were brought here," Baron Strucker said to Wanda with an apologetic smile. "I had a concern that we might need to stage an... intervention on your behalf."

Wanda practically snorted her disbelief. "An intervention?"

"The Avengers are the enemy of the Sokovian people. And you had clearly allied yourself to them."

"The Avengers you speak of are gone," Wanda answered, in complete honesty. "That team no longer exists."

"Gone?" Strucker could not hide his surprise. "All of them? Dead?"

"No. Not everyone. But the survivors of the original team have disbanded."

"Ah. I can't say I'm sorry to hear that."

"And you still haven't explained why you've brought me here," Wanda growled.

"I would have thought that was obvious. We need you."

"If you needed my help, you could have simply asked."

Strucker nodded in apparent agreement. "Perhaps I should have done. My distrust of the American government and their puppets sometimes leads me to do rash things."

"Stop hiding behind your politics," Wanda snapped angrily. "The Avengers haven't been an 'American team' since the Sokovia accords, and you surely know that. What do you want from me?"

Strucker regarded Wanda thoughtfully. She was no longer the innocent young woman who had first volunteered to protect her homeland without question.

"Let's get you out of this makeshift dungeon," he suggested. "We can talk far more comfortably upstairs."

He gestured to a nearby stairwell. "Will you walk with me?" he asked politely. "Please?"

Wanda hesitated. Mostly what she wanted was to be gone - to escape. But her best hope of that lay in playing along, at least for the moment. She returned to the cell just long enough to slip on her shoes and shrug herself into her jacket. Then they walked to the stairwell.

As Strucker opened the door for her, Wanda realized the entryway wasn't to a flight of stairs, but rather a catwalk that ran along an impressively wide factory floor. As they proceeded, Wanda could see that the facility had been hastily retro-fitted for weapons design. Well, that made a certain amount of sense: Strucker had been, for some time now, one of the chief advisors to the Sokovian military.

Strucker gestured that they should continue across the catwalk to the opposite side. As they walked along, a noticeable hush fell over the floor. People were pausing in their work and looking up at them. No, not at them. At Wanda. No one was pointing or exclaiming, but as soon as she was seen, she was the immediate focus of attention. Wanda began to feel distinctly uneasy.

"It's all right," Strucker assured her. "They haven't seen their national hero for many years now."

"National hero?" Wanda wasn't sure she'd heard correctly.

"You may not realize this, but you are very well thought of in your homeland." Strucker continued towards the exit at the opposite end of the catwalk. Not knowing what else to do, Wanda followed - and hundreds of pairs of eyes followed her.

The next entryway led not to stairs, but to an elevator lobby.

"I think you will feel much more comfortable when you can actually see daylight," Strucker said with an almost apologetic smile. He entered the elevator car and gestured for Wanda to join him. With misgiving, Wanda stepped into the car and the doors closed.

A few moments later the doors opened again on what appeared to be a large, comfortable sitting room, with one wall consisting of windows that overlooked a narrow balcony.

"Take a look outside," Strucker invited her. "See if you recognize where you are."

After a moment's hesitation, Wanda strolled to the window, opened the sliding door, and stepped out onto the balcony. She was standing on the third floor of what appeared to be a fairly large house, which sat at one end of a rambling public square, with cobblestone streets and a bustling market with shops and cafes.

"Is this Boransk?" Wanda gasped.

"It is. You visited here once before, I think." Strucker did not join her at the balcony, but instead seated himself in a nearby chair in the room.

"As a child." As Wanda watched, the same phenomenon occurred: the moment people saw her, they immediately stopped whatever they were doing and gave their full attention to her. Several of the people in the square began to congregate on the street just under the balcony. There was an iron fence running the length of the building, but it was strictly ornamental; it had no practical use as a a means of security.

Slightly unnerved, Wanda stepped back into the room, well away from the window. Strucker simply smiled.

"You have nothing to fear from them," he assured her. "They intend you no harm."

"What do they want?" Wanda asked.

"I would imagine that most of them wish only to thank you."

_"Thank_ me?"

"You are something of a folk hero here in Sokovia, Wanda. The sacrifices that you and your brother made defending Novi Grad are well known and still talked about."

"Is that your doing?"

Strucker actually snorted in bemusement. "I had nothing whatever to do with it."

An older woman, evidently a servant, bustled into the room. "Excuse me, minister," she exclaimed breathlessly. "The crowds..."

"Yes, yes, I will attend to them presently," Strucker assured her.

Seeing Wanda, the woman went right up to her, visibly moved, tears in her eyes. "It's really you," she murmured. "You're really here. Oh, it is so good to finally see you back home, my child. Your pardon, minister," she added hastily, glancing at Strucker. He merely smiled tolerantly.

"Greta, would you please see that the guest suite is made ready for Miss Maximoff," he said. "And please tell Dmitri to have another place ready at the dinner table."

"Yes, minister, of course." The woman named Greta turned back to Wanda. "Bless you, Miss Maximoff. Bless you. And welcome home." She leaned in, kissed Wanda's cheek, then hurried from the room.

Wanda stood where she was, mouth agape, speechless with amazement.

"I must apologize for Greta," Strucker said quietly. "That was inappropriate. But I assure you, she meant no harm."

Recovering from her shock somewhat, Wanda turned to where Strucker was seated.

"Minister?" she asked, with a raised eyebrow.

Strucker smiled in evident embarrassment. "I think many things have changed for both of us since we last met," he allowed. "Yes. I have been, for some time now, the acting head of the provisional government. It is not a position I asked for, nor one I care to retain. But we can discuss all that later."

"This house..."

"It used to belong to a wealthy oligarch. It is now the temporary residence of the acting prime minister and his staff, and following the destruction of Novi Grad, the city of Boransk is the seat of the provisional government."

Seeing Wanda's disbelieving stare, he quickly added, "You've been gone for five years, Wanda. A lot has transpired in your absence."

He regarded her for a moment and then gestured towards a chair. "Won't you please sit," he invited her.

Mechanically, Wanda seated herself across from Strucker.

"I can only imagine that your opinion of me has changed over the years," Strucker sighed. "As mine has of you. But in all fairness, we don't really know each other any more."

"At the moment, I really don't know what to think," Wanda admitted.

"It has not been an easy time for the people of Sokovia. After Novi Grad fell..." Strucker paused for a moment, thinking, and then started again. "Even with the evacuation efforts, tens of thousands of people perished in the city's destruction," he said sadly. "And the seat of the government fell. We were barely beginning to scrape a working coalition together when the 'snap' - is that what they call it? - the snap happened. And everything fell apart."

There was a brief pause as a servant brought in a pitcher of water and two glasses. He poured a glass for each, and with a deferential nod, left the room.

"You can't even imagine how terrifying that was," Strucker continued. "Total destabilization of the entire world order. Nearly every government in the world collapsed. Every sovereign nation. No one knew what was happening, who was in charge. And there was always the fear that without a functioning military, insurgents worldwide could take control of nuclear weapons. I swear, none of us slept that first year. At all."

Wanda regarded Strucker again, this time with more deliberate care. He _had_ aged, and not well; he looked far older than his years. And while he was keeping up appearances, Wanda could see instantly, this was an exhausted, anguished man.

"You seem to have survived all right," Wanda ventured.

"By some miracle, the nations with weapons of mass destruction managed to protect their arsenals. Beyond that... we knew next to nothing. We were in survival mode, plain and simple. Just trying to make it to the next day. We conscripted soldiers, doctors, nurses, teachers, architects, engineers... anyone who still had technical knowledge that could help us keep our crumbling infrastructure together. Somehow, we managed to hang on. And then, last week, all the people we lost suddenly returned to us, like ghosts. But by this time we had built a society meant for a reduced population. We had no homes for these people. And precious little food. To say the least, it's been a nightmare."

"It's the same around the world," Wanda nodded sadly. "But what does this have to do with me?"

Strucker inclined his head towards the balcony. "You saw the peoples' reaction to you just now, at just the briefest glimpse. These are frightened, desperate people, trying to cling to anything stable - anything at all. They need help. And above all, they need hope."

Strucker actually sat up and leaned forward in his chair. "I would like you to consider the possibility of returning home. And staying here. Where you're wanted. Where you're so desperately needed."

Wanda frowned. "I don't understand."

"Wanda, I don't think you realize this, but you are for Sokovia what Captain America has been for his country. Not just a hero, but a symbol of hope. An inspiration. The keeper of your peoples' flame. Your mere presence helps reassure them their cause is just, that all is not lost." Strucker was almost pleading. "You can give the Sokovian people something I never could. Hope. After so many years of crisis upon crisis, people are beginning to despair. And if they give in to that despair, then we are truly lost. The people see in you not just someone good, or kind, or powerful - you represent an ideal. All that Sokovia could be. All that it can be again, if only they believe in it. _Here_ is where you can do the greatest good, Wanda. _Here_ is where your efforts will be most valued, and yield the best results. This is your home. It is where you belong. And we _need_ you."


	8. Chapter 8

Wanda lay spread-eagled on the bed in the guest room, staring morosely up at the ceiling. From the moment she had awakened to find herself in a cell, her entire day had been surreal, and most of the surprises she'd received this day had been deeply unpleasant ones.

Once assured of her good behavior, if not her goodwill, Baron Strucker had gone out of his way to be a gracious host to Wanda. He treated her with unfailing courtesy and respect, and offered a well-prepared dinner and the guest suite as a sort of olive branch. With some misgiving, Wanda had accepted. No, Strucker was no longer the man she once knew. But neither was he the man she had expected. And at the moment, her thoughts were churning, restlessly, uneasily, with no obvious answers in sight.

Wanda glanced over at the bedroom windows. These were like the common room windows she'd seen downstairs, sliding glass doors that opened onto a narrow balcony. She wanted desperately to stand out there for a few moments, take in some cool night air, but she was afraid of drawing crowds. At the moment, the one thing she wanted to do most of all was withdraw - from everything, and everyone. There was too much her heart and her mind had to process.

Over dinner, Strucker assured her she was free to depart, if that was what she wished. "You're not a prisoner," he declared emphatically. "You are an honored guest of the Sokovian government. Your phone and other personal effects will be returned to you this evening. After that, you are free to stay, or leave, or do whatever you wish."

"You'll allow me to call my friends?" Wanda asked pointedly.

"Of course. And if you wish to leave, no one will stop you."

The three other ministers who were dining with them seemed anxious to press Wanda for a more tangible commitment, and to her surprise, Strucker interceded on her behalf.

"Leave her be," he implored them. "We've already made - _I've_ already made - a drastic misstep by bringing Miss Maximoff here without her prior consent. We will gain nothing by badgering her. Let her enjoy her meal in peace."

After some deliberation, Wanda decided to remain - for the moment. Nothing that Strucker had told her was an out and out lie. Her homeland was in a critical situation, destabilized, desperately needing help of all kinds. And she had to admit, it did feel good to be in her own country once again, despite the circumstances. She was never unhappy in America, but she was never home, either. Only Clint and Natasha had made that upheaval bearable. On the day she lost her real home and her brother, those two extraordinary people had taken it upon themselves to be her new family; and she knew only too well that it had been their kindness and their empathy that pulled her back from an abyss from which she never would have escaped on her own. Now, Wanda's homeland was asking for her help. And while she didn't entirely trust Strucker, everything he'd told her seemed plausible, and the plea for assistance genuine. So why was she wary?

Wanda sighed heavily. She knew there would be times when she would miss Natasha. She had no idea this might be one of those times. Natasha had traveled the world many times over, always adeptly skating over the messier aspects of geopolitics - perhaps her most impressive skill set of all. The woman who called no place home and left no footprints wherever she walked would know exactly how to handle a politically murky and ethically dubious situation like this one. She could have told Wanda exactly what she needed to do, the right thing to do. Wanda could almost hear Natasha giving her advice:

"_Oh, the despot who wants to present himself as a legitimate ruler? And wants to use you as a prop? People like that are as common as cockroaches. Here's how you deal with the likes of them..."_

But Natasha _wasn't_ here, not any more. She was gone. Forever. And Wanda had no counsel now to rely upon, save her own. She let out another ragged sigh. She hadn't felt this lost, this totally alone, since her brother died.

"Please help me," she murmured aloud, staring upwards. At that moment, she didn't really know if she was talking to Natasha, to Pietro, to God, or just the ceiling tiles. "I don't know what to do. Tell me what I need to do."

Almost if in answer to her plea, there was a light rapping at the door. Wanda sat up.

"Who is it?" she called out.

"Excuse me, Miss Maximoff, I have your phone here," came a muffled voice through the door. "May I enter?"

Wanda relaxed slightly. The voice belonged to Stjepan, the oldest son of Dmitri and Greta. Their family acted as the household servants, and Stjepan was the de facto majordomo for the entire residence. Wanda pushed herself up off the bed and smoothed out her slightly rumpled clothing as best she could. "Please come in."

Stjepan entered, carrying a large tray with a pitcher of water, two tumbler glasses and all of the items that had been taken from Wanda's pockets. She almost sighed with relief at the sight of them. The young man sat the tray on a nearby table. He was young, probably no more than twenty, and rakishly handsome. He smiled easily.

"I brought you some water, in case you get thirsty," he told her. "And my mother will bring you some new clothes in the morning, whenever you're ready. If you need anything during the night, just press that little button you see by your bedside. My father or I will see to your needs right away."

"Thank you."

"We're very glad you decided to stay here tonight."

"Well, I could hardly arrange a flight out of the country at this hour, could I?" Wanda gave him what she hoped was a friendly smile. She picked up her phone, and felt reassured by the weight of it in her hand.

"Don't worry, it hasn't been tampered with in any way," Stjepan assured her.

Wanda raised an eyebrow with a sardonic smile. "Because everything I say in this room will be monitored and recorded?"

The young man's answer was refreshingly candid. "I'm sure that the Minister is listening very closely to everything you say and do," he said. "But he wants your help - we all do. He certainly won't do anything to intentionally antagonize you."

Wanda was surprised, but not displeased, by his response. "That's good to hear."

"If I were you, I'd take advantage of this situation."

"Take advantage?"

"The government is willing to do just about anything to secure your help. So don't be afraid to set conditions. Or make demands."

Wanda couldn't help but feel amused by the young man's brash impertinence. "Such as?"

"Ask for a sports car. A nice shiny red one," he suggested excitedly. "Or an entire wine cellar. A closet full of shoes. Or whatever you want, really."

"I don't think I'll be asking for any of those things," Wanda demurred with a smile.

"A missed opportunity," Stjepan sighed sadly.

"Do you always give such advice to your visiting guests?" Wanda asked.

The young man shrugged, and his smile faded. "It just seems like the whole world is coming apart at the seams," he confided. "Not just here. Everywhere. Like all of human civilization is going to collapse at any minute. You should take what you want, enjoy yourself while you can. Before... well... before it's all over."

Wanda sighed sympathetically. "I used to feel that way, too, when I was your age."

"You're not _that_ old," Stjepan objected.

"Well, thank you for that, at least."

"What did you do?" he asked in complete earnestness. "How did you deal with everything seeming so... hopeless?"

Stjepan was no longer being smug or sarcastic. His face clouded with genuine worry and he really wanted to know what Wanda thought. She mulled over her answer carefully.

"I knew I wanted to help, but I wasn't sure what I could do, if anything," she admitted. "The insurgents were tearing our country apart in those days. Many cities were open war zones. Doctor List was looking for volunteers for a new program. My brother and I decided to sign up."

"And that's when you became who you are now?"

Wanda nodded. "I don't regret my decision. Although, I do think if I was presented with that choice today, I'd probably say no."

Stjepan was genuinely surprised. "Really? Why?"

"Because when the truly monstrous creatures like Thanos threaten the world, I have to go and fight them."

Stjepan blinked, not comprehending. "Who is Thanos?"

"Never mind." Wanda gave him a sweet smile. "Thank you for bringing my belongings to me, Stjepan. I'd like to be alone now, please."

"Of course." The young man turned to go. "Good night, Miss Maximoff. Sleep well."

"Stjepan." Wanda called after him, and he paused in the doorway. "Please tell your father... the dinner tonight was excellent. I haven't had a home cooked meal like that in a very long time. It made me feel..." she paused. "Like I was home again."

The young man smiled. "Thank you. He'll be very pleased to hear that. Good night."

"Good night."

As soon as the door was closed behind him, Wanda unlocked her phone, confirmed she had access to a cellular network, and dialed Sam. The phone only had to ring twice before Sam picked up.

"Wanda?"

"Hey, Sam. It's me."

"Jesus, are you all right? What happened? Where are you?" The worry - and relief - in Sam's voice was palpable.

"I'm okay," she assured him. "I'm okay. And actually, believe it or not, I'm in Sokovia right now."

"Sokovia? What the hell are you doing there?"

"It's a long story."

"Are you in trouble?"

"Well... I don't need to be rescued, but I could really use your help."

"What can we do? Just tell us what you need."

"How soon can you be here?"

"Probably ten to twelve hours. Do you need a team assembled?"

"Is someone there with you now?"

"I got Banner and Barnes right here, listening in."

"Hey, Wanda," Bruce interjected, and Wanda smiled broadly at the sound of his voice.

"And I can call the Langs," Sam continued. "They're still in town. They're supposed to head back to San Francisco in the morning, unless I roll 'em out of bed first."

"Then, please, call them."

"How about Clint?"

Wanda hesitated. She remembered all too vividly how adamant Clint's refusal was, to even consider continuing with the Avengers. "Leave him out of the loop for now," she decided. "He really needs time alone with his family. We can call him later, if need be."

"So, what's going on?"

"Honestly... I can't tell you yet. I'm alone right now, but I'm assuming this call is being monitored. Just get here as quickly as you can, please? I've been told my phone will stay on, and you can reach me once you're in Sokovian airspace."

"We're on our way," Sam promised.

"One other thing."

"Sure."

"Bring my keychain, if you can find it? I put it down somewhere and I can't find it anywhere."

"Consider it done."

Wanda sighed with great relief. "Thanks, Sam. Give me a ring as soon as you're close. Hopefully by then, I'll have a better idea of what's going on."

"Sure thing, Wanda. Talk to you soon."

As soon as Sam ended the call, Bucky Barnes gave him a worried frown.

"Keychain?" he asked. "Is that some sort of duress code signal?"

"Sort of," Sam nodded. "It means, 'come in stealth'. She may not be in immediate danger, but she's expecting trouble."

"Then we'd better get going."

Sam nodded in agreement. "You guys get together anything you need," he told them. "I'll give Tic-Tac and his better half a call, and see if they can join the raiding party."

"Does this mean I'm an Avenger now?" Bucky asked half-jokingly.

"Consider it a field promotion," Sam answered with a terse smile. "And welcome to the team."


	9. Chapter 9

Less than two hours after Sam got off the phone with Wanda, he found himself on a windswept airfield, next to an impressively sized Wakandan aircraft. It was about an hour before dawn, and while the wind was light, it was also bitterly cold. Bruce Banner and Bucky Barnes stared up at the aircraft with genuine admiration.

"Now, _this_ is how you travel in style," Bruce declared appreciatively.

"And it's really okay for us to borrow this?" Bucky asked. "This is, like, one of the personal aircraft for King T'Challa and his family. It's not just some run of the mill airbus."

"Okoye said we were to treat it as our own," Sam assured him.

"Damn. It sure is nice to have friends in high places," Bruce murmured.

Sam noticed a dark sedan turning onto the airfield at high speed. "Here comes our pilot," he grinned. "And the rest of our team."

The car came to a stop just a few feet short of the runway. Maria Hill stepped out of the driver's side, somehow always managing to look awake and alert, no matter what the hour. With considerably less alacrity, Scott Lang and Hope Van Dyne emerged from the passenger doors, looking bleary-eyed and grumpy.

"Good morning," Sam called out.

"Not for hours yet," Hope groaned.

"My eyes won't open," Scott complained.

"Sorry about that," Sam apologized. "The bad calls always come in the middle of the night."

"Is this everyone?" Maria asked.

"Everyone for this trip."

"I'll get the engines fired up, then."

"Don't you want to hear about the op first?" Sam asked.

Maria shook her head. "I'm just driving the getaway car. You guys work out whatever you need to do."

With that, she disappeared up the ramp.

"She's all business," Bucky muttered.

"We did roll her out of bed at four in the morning," Sam reminded him.

"So, what's going on, Cap?" Hope asked.

"We got a distress call from Wanda. She was kidnapped yesterday late afternoon, and a couple of hours ago, we got a call from her in Sokovia, asking us to come a-runnin'."

"Kidnapped?" Scott gaped. "And she gets to make phone calls?"

"Guys, I have no idea what we're getting ourselves into here," Sam cautioned. "But when I talked to Wanda, she used the keychain protocol. That means she's in trouble, and we need to walk soft. We're going in totally blind on this one. Whatever happens on the ground, be prepared to improvise."

"We're with you, Cap." Scott said simply. "You give the orders, we'll follow them."

"Do we know anything else?" Hope asked.

Bruce shrugged. "Wanda said she didn't need to be rescued. But she _did_ ask us to bring you guys."

"We can use the ship's cloaking technology to stay off the radar, going over the border," Sam continued. "But we'll need to find some safe place to set down near the city limits. That could be a problem."

"Cap, if it helps, we can shrink the plane, once we've landed," Scott suggested.

Sam gave him a bemused look. "You're serious?"

"We can make it small enough you could carry it in your back pocket. I, uh, wouldn't do that, though," he added quickly. "Might damage it."

Sam nodded thoughtfully. "I might just take you up on that. Once we're on the ground, Barnes, Banner and I will head into the city. We can't really disguise ourselves, so we'll draw the attention of the authorities. In hopefully a very friendly way."

"What do you want us to do?" Hope asked.

"As soon as we're about to 'go public', you guys shrink yourselves down to flea-size, and as soon as we get anywhere close to where we believe Wanda is being held, start a recce. If you can actually talk to Wanda without being spotted, that would be ideal. If not, you're going to be our eyes and ears. Let us know what's coming at us, and what the surrounding territory looks like."

"Are we treating this like an extraction?" Bucky asked. "Just grabbing Wanda and getting out?"

Sam shrugged helplessly. "I honestly don't know at this point."

"What about weapons?"

"Sidearms only."

Bucky looked like he didn't think much of that idea. Sam sighed sympathetically.

"Believe me, I'm not happy about it, either," he admitted. "But Wanda's request was for stealth. We go in loaded for bear, we could find trouble we don't need or want. So we play it cool. Appear as non-threatening as we can. Hope the locals feel the same. Sorry, Bruce. There's no way to make you inconspicuous."

"I'll keep my glasses on," Bruce quipped. Sam gave him a withering look.

"Hey, nobody goes into a fight wearing their glasses," Bruce protested.

Their conversation was halted by the hum of the plane engines warming up.

"All right, let's get on board, and get ready for departure," Sam ordered.

They boarded the plane, and Bruce improvised a seat for himself out of a chaise lounge. He grimaced involuntarily with pain as he settled himself.

"It hurts?"

Bruce looked up. Bucky Barnes was regarding him with concern. He wasn't really asking a question, merely expressing sympathy. Bruce nodded. While Bucky technically had two good arms, there was only one he could actually feel - the other was just a cold metallic ache in a shoulder socket where an arm used to be. And that's all he would feel, for the rest of his days - not unlike Bruce Banner himself.

"Ahh, it's just life, what ya gonna do," Bruce grumbled. "Thanks, man."

Bucky smiled sadly.

Sam started to head toward the cockpit, but Hope stopped him.

"Where do you think you're going?" she demanded.

"Gonna go co-pilot the ship."

"No, you're _not,"_ Hope scolded him. "Have you even looked at yourself in a mirror, Sam? How can you even _see_ out of those eyes? I'll bet you haven't slept for longer than a day. Am I right?"

"Well..."

"You need to go lie down," Hope said firmly. "You're going to be leading your team into battle on enemy ground in about six hours from now, and you _need_ rest. All of you," she added, addressing the entire cabin. "Lights out. It's going to be a long flight to Sokovia, and you need to spend every minute of that asleep. We have a long op ahead of us, and this the only down time any of us are going to get."

Hope gave Sam a conciliatory smile. "Only giving you orders this one time, Cap," she said softly. "Don't disobey me."

Sam managed a weary smile. "No, ma'am."

As Sam found a row of seats to lay across, Scott came up to Hope. "What are you going to do?" he asked.

"I'm going to go keep our pilot awake for about forty minutes. Then I'm going to crash too." She gave him a light kiss on the lips. "Get some rest," she said tenderly.

A few moments later, Hope entered the cockpit and took the seat beside Maria.

"Good God," she groaned, strapping herself in. "Whoever thought it was a good idea to leave the men in charge?"

Maria chuckled. "I know, right?"

"I'm assuming you don't need any help up here."

"Nope, all good. These Wakandan craft practically fly themselves. As Nebula is fond of saying, all you have to do is strap yourself in and not fall out." She made a face. "The only drawback is, we'll be flying with the sun directly in our eyes for most of the trip. The instruments will keep us on course, but I prefer to actually see where I'm going."

There was a momentary lull of conversation in the cockpit as Maria got the plane into the air. Once they had leveled off for flight, Hope decided to venture a question.

"What do you think we're going to find, once we get to Sokovia?"

"I really don't know," Maria answered honestly. "Wanda's history with her homeland is... complicated. The government there is anti-American generally, and anti-Avengers pretty specifically. Wanda got the powers she has because a local HYDRA cell was fooling around with one of those damn Infinity stones. Wanda joined the Avengers after the destruction of Novi Grad, but she and Tony Stark had a lot of fence-mending to do. They weren't really on good speaking terms until she'd been with the team for almost a year."

"So, does that mean Wanda's going to be on our side, or theirs?"

"That would be the million dollar question," Maria said grimly.

Back in the passenger cabin, Scott glanced over at Bruce. "You're the only one of us who's ever been to Sokovia before, right?" he asked. "Any idea what we should expect?"

Bruce grimaced. "The first time the Avengers were in Sokovia, we were taking down a HYDRA cell led by a goon named Strucker. Mostly what I remember about that trip is, nobody thought of us as the good guys. We heard 'Avengers go home!' wherever we went. The second time..." Bruce shook his head sadly. "Yeah, we saved the world. But the people of Sokovia were left with a huge crater in the ground where their capital city used to be, and a debris field as wide as the entire country. Hundreds dead, and thousands more missing. I can't imagine anybody who lives there is very happy about that. Would you be?"


	10. Chapter 10

Despite being in a strange place, and still technically in the hands of kidnappers, Wanda slept soundly that night, and woke unusually late the next morning. Remembering where she was, she propped herself up on one elbow, blinking in the dim light. The curtains were still drawn but she could hear an agreeable rumble of indistinct crowd noise coming from the town square just outside her window. Sighing, she fell back onto her pillow and stared up at the ceiling. The bed was comfortable, almost too comfortable; she was going to have to resist the urge to go back to sleep. After a few moments letting her brain restart, she reluctantly pushed herself up into a sitting position. She had no idea what to make of her situation, but no matter what, she was going to have to confront that today.

She had decided to take a shower when she realized belatedly she had no clothes to wear, save the outfit that had seen some very hard use over the last two days. Stjepan had mentioned that her mother would set aside some outfits for her. After a moment's hesitation, she pressed the call button by her bedside.

"Good morning, Miss Maximoff." Dmitri's voice. "How can I help you?"

"Good morning, Dmitri," Wanda said, her own voice still husky with sleep. "I, uhh, don't suppose you might have any clean clothes I could wear...?"

"Certainly. I'll have Greta bring some up to you right away. Would you care for any breakfast? We can bring something to your suite if you like."

"Ahh... just tea and some fruit, if you have any."

"Of course."

"Thank you. I don't suppose the Baron, ahh, I mean, the Minister is around this morning?"

"He is in a meeting with the cabinet right now, but I'm sure he'd be happy to meet with you whenever you are ready."

"Please don't disturb him. I'd like to eat and clean myself up first."

"Very good, Miss Maximoff."

Wanda slipped from the bed - not without some reluctance - and found a comfortable white terrycloth bathrobe hanging in the closet. Shrugging herself into it, she decided to risk a look at her own reflection in the mirror.

The bathroom was small and the fixtures ancient, but it was immaculately clean. Wanda regarded her own face critically. She didn't look nearly as bad as she feared, but the woman staring back at her was almost a stranger. She experimented with a few smiles, and decided a modest demi-smile was about the only thing that suited her troubled mood this morning.

She'd talked to Sam last night, but it was still a long intercontinental flight to Sokovia; the Avengers wouldn't be here until mid-morning, at the earliest. And whatever she was going to decide about her situation was likely to happen before they arrived. There was light knock at the door that helped dispel her mood.

"Miss Maximoff?" Greta's voice.

Wanda opened the door. Greta was standing in the hallway, with a large bundle of clothes, and Stjepan was just behind her, carrying a breakfast tray. Seeing that Wanda wasn't dressed, he gave her a shy smile, set the tray on the nearby table, and quickly exited the room.

Greta's presence was a great comfort to Wanda. The woman fussed over her in just the maternal way that Wanda needed to help dispel her tensions and allow her to relax. Greta had brought several outfits, not knowing Wanda's tastes. After several minutes of comparing and evaluating, Wanda picked out a peasant dress and shawl, the sort her mother always used to wear, as well as a comfortable pair of dress boots that came up to mid-shin.

Thanking Greta for her kindness, Wanda quickly devoured her breakfast of fruit, Greek yogurt and tea; then showered and dressed. After finally deciding she was presentable enough to be seen in public, Wanda went to the window and drew back the curtains. The sight that greeted her surprised and somewhat unnerved her.

The entire square was thronged with people. And while some of them were pottering in and out of the market stalls, the great majority of them were gathered around the house, looking up expectantly at her suite. Wanda quickly stepped away from the window. She'd seen several of her fellow Avengers have awkward and sometimes comical brushes with their own celebrity before, but the last time she'd had such widespread public exposure was during the incident in Lagos, and that had been a horrible experience she had no intention of repeating.

She decided to return to the common rooms on the ground floor and seek out the Baron. There was no point putting this off any longer. She hesitantly descended the staircase and overheard slightly raised voices coming from one of the nearby rooms. She crept up to the doorway so she could listen without being seen.

"There's no water at all?" That was Strucker's voice.

"Not enough," said another male voice. "We could get by for now, if people would only stop hoarding."

"There's nothing left for the orphanage," added a third. "All the faucets ran dry as of this morning."

Wanda peeked around the doorway. Baron Strucker was leaning on the table, his hand partially hiding his face in a gesture of irritation or maybe even despair. "For God's sake. If we can't even care for our children, what good are we?"

"We can't risk repairs to the filtration pumps, the risk of further landslides is too great," said the man seated next to him. "And we simply don't have the proper earth moving equipment to shore up the surrounding area. It would take weeks just to set up a staging area to safely bring in the movers we need."

"We're going to need to shut off the pumps to the aquifers as well," said another man, just outside of Wanda's point of view. "Before they become damaged beyond repair."

"Rationing food is bad enough," said a woman's voice. "If we have to ration water too..."

Wanda decided she would make her presence known. She slipped into the room quietly. Seated at a large table were a group of people Wanda supposed now comprised the current members of the acting cabinet - five men, three women, all looking distinctly haggard and worried. They looked up in surprise as she entered.

"Perhaps I can help?" Wanda asked shyly.

Strucker straightened up in his chair. "Perhaps you can," he said. "There was a rockslide up at the pumping station earlier this morning. It's the primary water source for the city. The workings are damaged, but not severely. The problem is, we can't safely get near them to effect the proper repairs. Not in any reasonable amount of time."

"If it's just a matter of clearing a rockslide, I could do that for you," Wanda offered.

The men and women exchanged a round of cautiously hopeful glances.

"We have nothing to lose by letting her try," one of the men said finally.

Strucker nodded thoughtfully. "I hate to impose on you," he said awkwardly to Wanda. "But we're rather in a predicament here."

"Is there someone who can direct me to the site?"

"I'll have Stjepan drive you. It's not far from here."

A few minutes later, Wanda found herself in an open air ATV with roll bars, with Stjepan at the wheel. They were headed into the high foothills at the city's northern edge, just ahead of a rugged mountain range.

"There's no dam?" Wanda asked.

Stjepan shook his head. "It's never been necessary. There's a group of mountain lakes all feeding into one another. Perfect natural setup. The city has reservoir pumping and a filtration plant at the lake closest to the city. The engineers have shut everything down as a precaution."

After slightly over three quarters of an hour navigating treacherous switchbacks, they found themselves at the site. A group of engineers were huddled together, arguing over how best to protect the station from further damage. A fairly large fall of boulders and loose soil had partially buried the pumping station.

Wanda made a face as she saw the damage. "Well, that's a mess," she remarked.

Stjepan nodded grimly. "Looks worse than we were told."

He brought the ATV as close as he could, and they disembarked. Wanda looked up the high ridge.

"There's a road up there?" she asked.

Stjepan nodded. "It's the main road to the north. There are other roads in the plains, of course, but if this road closes, then it takes three times as long to get in or out of the city."

"The joys of living in the mountains," Wanda sighed. "Is the road closed? Or damaged?"

"Not that I know of."

"Can you find out, please? While I have a word with these gentlemen." Wanda walked over to the knot of engineers. This was one occasion where she found herself grateful for her newfound celebrity, because the men instantly stopped their discussion to give their full attention to her. After a few minutes of conferring, she had enough information to come up with a plan to clear the immediate area around the pumping station. She looked warily along the ridge. There were still slight slides of loose soil taking place further away from them; from this distance they appeared almost as wisps of smoke. The event was far from over.

"Stjepan, keep your eyes on that ridge while I'm working," Wanda ordered as the young man came up to her. "I mean it, don't take your eyes off it. The mountain's not done making trouble for us today."

"I just got word the road's been closed for inspection," Stjepan told her. "But there's a convoy of supply trucks already en route to here, they passed through before the checkpoints closed. They should be passing by this ridge any time now."

"Okay. I'm going to start clearing this debris. Keep an eye up there, and you yell if you hear or see anything."

Wanda regarded the damage with a heavy sigh, and then steeled herself for the task at hand. Tendrils of ruby-red mystical energy began to spark from her fingertips. The energy became a wave, and Wanda enveloped the first boulder - several times larger than herself - and gently shifted it away from the pumping station. Stjepan's mouth fell open in astonishment as she shifted the boulder as easily as he might pick up a baseball.

Wanda saw him gaping at her, and she was instantly furious. "Stjepan!" she scolded him angrily. "Stop looking at me! Keep your eyes up there!" She pointed upwards along the ridge.

"S-sorry," the young man stammered sheepishly. "It's just... I've never seen you use your powers before. You're incredible."

"Be impressed all you want, but you keep your eyes on that ridge," Wanda told him. "I'm counting on you to protect me. You understand?"

Stjepan bobbed his head solemnly. "Yes, Miss Maximoff."

Wanda turned her attention back to the debris slide, and began to work in earnest, carefully shifting the boulders away from the structure, and building an inelegant but effective barrier around the station to protect it from future rockfalls. It only took her a few short minutes to clear what would have taken a team of engineers with earth-moving equipment several days to complete. She had almost finished her work when she heard Stjepan calling out hoarsely to her. Wanda turned to see him pointing up at the ridge, a panicked look on his face. She looked up. The convoy of large eighteen-wheelers was passing on the road above, and only a few yards ahead of them, the road was crumbling away in another landslide. The lead driver had seen the slippage and was braking furiously, but even without another slide, the vehicles would be trapped on the mountainside. Wanda's eyes widened in horror as she saw that the ridge was beginning to show distress signs, right beneath the trucks themselves. There was only moments to keep all the vehicles from falling off the road into the ravine below.

"Oh, _shit,"_ she exclaimed, and launched herself into the air, streaking like a bright red comet for the ridge. "Bless you, Sam, for teaching me how to fly!"

She reached the first truck just as the roadway began to buckle underneath it. Frantically, Wanda wrapped the truck in bands of energy and lifted it up off the crumbling pavement. She could see the driver staring at her from the cab, his eyes wide with fear.

"Hang on!" she yelled to him.

Gritting her teeth, Wanda guided the heavy vehicle past the point of the slide, and set it down safely on the other side, on the section of still-stable roadway.

"Drive!" she shouted. The driver gunned the engine, and the truck began to lumber away. It was hardly safely away from the danger zone before the ground began to buckle under the second vehicle. Wanda swooped in to save it from imminent disaster. True, the trucks were lighter than oversized granite boulders, but they were still more than heavy enough, and also considerably more fragile. Not to mention that they contained not only supplies but some very frightened and very vulnerable human beings. Wanda's heart began to thud heavily in her chest from the exertion.

One by one, Wanda carefully ferried the remaining vehicles across the collapsed section of the road, and the terrified drivers waved their heartfelt thanks to her from their cabs. Once all the vehicles were safely on their way, Wanda heaved a sigh of relief and headed back to the pumping station. She wasn't sure if she was shaking from fright or exhaustion or a combination of both. But as soon as she landed, she collapsed onto a nearby boulder, her lungs heaving, limbs trembling. Stjepan ran up to her.

"Are you all right?" he asked breathlessly.

Wanda managed to give him a wan smile and a weak "thumbs up" sign.

The engineers also began to crowd around, every bit as awed as Stjepan was.

"Stjepan... would you mind... driving me back to Government House?" Wanda panted. "I think... I've had... enough excitement for one morning."


	11. Chapter 11

It was mid-afternoon, and Wanda was resting in the guest suite at Government House. The ill effects from her over-exertion were thankfully short-lived, but the experience of that morning had given her pause; she lay on the bed, thinking quietly. She left the door to the suite open, hoping that Greta or Dmitri might wander by to check on her. Wanda wasn't actively seeking company, but she didn't want to shun it, either. She was almost ready to welcome a distraction. There was a knock at the door, and Wanda looked up to see - to her great surprise - Baron Strucker standing in the doorway.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Better, thank you."

Strucker nodded, apparently mulling over his next words. "Stjepan told me about your little adventure this morning. You've made quite an impression on him."

Wanda grimaced. "I'm so sorry. That really wasn't my intention."

"I thought his account might have been - shall we say - somewhat exaggerated? But I've just seen some raw footage of what you did, taken by one of the engineers at the site."

"Oh?" Wanda was beginning to feel apprehensive.

"It was remarkable, to say the least. I would imagine at this moment that video is plastered all over social media. And by tonight, it will be lead story on every newscast."

Wanda groaned in dismay. "Swell."

"Wanda... today you saved the lives of nearly a dozen men, rescued a convoy of badly needed food and medical supplies, and turned what could have a been a city-wide crisis into a temporary inconvenience. These are not inconsequential things."

Strucker gestured towards a chair, indicating he was seeking permission to enter the room. Wanda nodded, and sat up on the bed, crossing her legs beneath her. Strucker sat down on the chair across from her.

"You know... when you and your brother first came to my attention, it really never occurred to me that you would make a good soldier," Strucker told her.

"I didn't think so, either," Wanda admitted.

Strucker frowned in puzzlement. "And yet, you volunteered for the program."

"That was mostly Pietro's decision."

"Oh?"

"My decision was, I was going to stay with my brother. Whatever he decided to do. Wherever that led."

"I see." Strucker paused. "You will fight, when you need to; that's obvious. You're no coward. But being a soldier is not in your nature. I do not mean that as an insult. It's just an observation."

Wanda thought that over, and decided she didn't disagree. "It's a fair statement."

"Yet, your people -our people - could use a champion," Strucker continued. "Perhaps a better word might be, guardian."

"I'm listening."

"From what little you've seen, I think you've gathered Sokovia can't really defend itself from its enemies right now. Our army was quite small to begin with. What remains is in tatters - just like the rest of the country. When List and I first recruited you, it was our expectation that you and your brother would be on the front lines, in the thick of the fighting. What I'm going to suggest now is more in the way of... deterrence."

"You've already said, you want me to think of myself as Sokovia's answer to Captain America."

"You're already that, Wanda, whether you accept it or not. What I'm suggesting is that you not only accept it, but embrace it."

"And if you're about to suggest that I allow myself to be used as a prop to legitimize your provisional government, you can forget it."

"Such hostility," Strucker tutted. "We're on the same side, Wanda, or so I keep telling myself. Is there nothing I can say that will make you trust me?"

"Trust you?" Wanda shot back angrily. "How can you expect me to trust you, when you won't do the same for me? You didn't trust me enough to simply ask for my help - you had me kidnapped, brought here against my will. Probably by a team of out-of-work HYDRA operatives, yes? How can I consider you a legitimate representative of my country's government, when you're willing to stoop to tactics like that?"

"Tactics like that are all we have," Strucker retorted. "Compared to the rest of the world, our military is inconsequential. The only reason we are not an occupied nation right now is because we no great mineral wealth or other resource that would tempt a conqueror nation. Certainly our location has no strategic value. We have no military or economic power to match other nations. We can only survive by our guile and our wits."

"I don't know if you've noticed, Baron, but the war is over," Wanda snapped. "It's _been_ over, for a very long time."

"And _now_ you see why I need you," Strucker exclaimed, and then he sighed deeply, making an effort not to raise his voice. "I'm a soldier. I've spent nearly my entire career affiliated with the military in one aspect or another. I always see everything through the lens of threat assessment. You do not." He paused. "When I'm being perfectly honest with myself, I realize that, yes, the threats facing Sokovia right now are not external. We have challenges enough trying to feed, house and clothe our suddenly doubled population. But, if we were ever to have something of value that another nation might covet, there would be nothing to keep them from just walking in and helping themselves. Unless... _unless_ our nation had a guardian of its own, a hero with extraordinary powers, who could also call upon other heroes to come to Sokovia's defense if needed... then, any oppressors might think twice before deciding to start any hostilities with us."

Strucker leaned back in his chair and sighed again. "I made a mistake with you, Wanda, yes. And all I can do is continue to apologize for that lapse in judgment. I'm not here recruiting you for the military, not today. I'm not even asking you to be part of the government. I'm simply asking that you consider being a Sokovian again. Be _here_, at home, with us. I wish there were some way I could make you understand how the Sokovians see you, how _I_ see you, and what your mere presence could do for our homeland."

He steepled his hands under his chin, not as a gesture of prayer, but in retrospection. "When I first came to power - if I can call it that - the first thing I learned was how little power I actually had," he confessed. "I had this whole list of things I wanted to do. I was ambition incarnate. Yet I did not have the means to achieve any of the things I desired. I was, and continue to be, constrained by very real limitations. You, on the other hand... you _have_ no limitations, as I understand them. There is nothing, literally nothing, you cannot do. I truly believe that, every bit as much as young Stjepan does. As everyone else does. If you don't believe me, go take a look out your balcony window. The crowds haven't gathered out there to see _me."_

Involuntarily, Wanda glanced towards the window. She and Strucker were nowhere close to be visible to anyone standing outside, but even with the glass panes shut and being three floors up, she could still easily hear the low, omnipresent murmur of the crowd outside.

"How does it feel, when you walk the streets in New York?" Strucker asked. "How do the people there react to you? Are they friendly? Kind? Or perhaps they look at you with uncertainty. Perhaps they are wary, frightened by your great powers. Perhaps some are even openly hostile towards you, because you do not conform to whatever narrow-minded definition they hold in their minds of the 'standard' of their society. No matter where you live in the world, Wanda, you will never be truly accepted for who and what you are - except here. The people are in awe of your powers, yes, but they acknowledge you as one of their own. And they always will. Here is where you have always belonged. And I think, deep down in your heart, you know that."

Strucker leaned back in his chair and fell silent, folding his hands in his lap, his case made. There was nothing more to be said. Wanda sat on the bed, eyes smarting with unwelcome tears. She was particularly vulnerable to the arguments Strucker was making, and they both knew that; Strucker wasn't exactly being subtle when driving his points home. Yet Wanda couldn't dismiss anything he said as demonstrably false. Yes, she wanted to be back home, in Sokovia, among the people who shared the same experiences and culture that she did; she yearned for that, she ached for it. But she also knew she couldn't come home, not without the trust she needed so badly. Seeing that Wanda was seriously considering what he had said, Strucker sat in his chair without moving, in fact barely breathing, almost as if in fear of breaking a spell.

"I need to know," Wanda said finally, in a low, choked voice, "That this isn't some sort of cruel ruse. That I'm not helping to establish and support a nascent dictatorship."

"You have every right to be skeptical. The man who first recruited you had such ambitions," Strucker admitted candidly. "And I remain someone who's too accustomed to finding military solutions to problems that don't necessarily require the military - as you're well aware. But no, I have no intentions of founding or supporting a HYDRA 2.0. Dreams of empire will have to wait, for another time, another place. Possibly, even another man."

"I want to believe you, Baron. I do. But your word alone is not enough."

"Then don't take me at my word. Question it always." Strucker leaned forward, almost eagerly. "I wouldn't mind having a conscience at my shoulder, always ready to remind me should I display the wrong... tendencies." He gave her a chagrined smile. "And we both know that you alone have more than enough power to depose me, if it ever came to that."

A messenger came to the doorway and coughed nervously. As soon as Strucker acknowledged him with a glance, he handed him a slip of paper. Strucker read it, his face impassive; and then he tersely nodded to the messenger, indicating that he was dismissed. The young man hurried away.

"Your friends will be arriving soon," Strucker announced.

"My friends?"

"A Wakandan imperial shuttle has been detected about forty miles outside Sokovian airspace, heading this direction, before it cloaked itself. Sokovia has no diplomatic relations with Wakanda, so I can only assume the Avengers are coming to your rescue."

Wanda permitted herself a sardonic smile. "As I'm sure you overheard my conversation earlier, Baron, you'll distinctly remember I told my friends I didn't need to be rescued."

"No, but you _did_ ask them to come."

"I didn't know what I was going to find here."

"And have you? Have you found what you expected to find here?"

Wanda regarded him long and hard, her eyes still shining. "I'm not your enemy, Baron."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"I'm not your friend, either, or your ally - not yet."

"Trust must be earned, over time," Strucker conceded. "But in the memory of the trust we once shared, I hope you will give me the opportunity to earn it back."

"Yes, I will," Wanda declared firmly.

"Then I can ask no more." He stood up, and gave her a resigned smile. "You will be leaving now?"

"Not just yet. There are one or two things I need to attend to first. Please tell Greta I will come to see her, before I go."

"She will be very happy to hear that."

"And I'll be sure to see you, as well."

"Thank you for that courtesy. Until later, then."

Strucker bowed stiffly, turned and left the room. A few moments after he left, Wanda's phone chirruped, indicating an incoming call. She picked up the phone with great relief.

"Bless you, Sam, your timing's perfect," she said, by way of greeting.

"Hey, Wanda," Sam answered, relief evident in his voice. "You still doing okay?"

"Yes, and all the better for hearing your voice."

"I brought your keychain, in case you still need it."

"Actually, I do," Wanda admitted. "Give me a minute to find a room that's not bristling with listening devices, and then, I have a very large favor to ask."

* * *

It was now late afternoon, and the shadows were long in the central square next to Government House. The crowd had thinned out, slightly; but most still milled about, hoping for even a glimpse of their national hero. A young girl clung to her mother's skirts, half-dozing in the afternoon heat; then an unusual sound caught her ear. Frowning in puzzlement, the girl looked around for the source of the sound. To her great surprise, a small passenger van - no larger than a toy that could be held in her hand - zipped between her shoes, racing along the sidewalk, buzzing like an angry bee. Gasping with delight, the child reached down, trying to catch the tiny vehicle between her fingers. But she was too slow, and the van zipped underneath the wrought iron gate, bouncing along the sidewalk towards the house before it vanished completely from sight.

* * *

Baron Strucker sat in the library on the ground floor of Government House, thankful to have a few minutes of relative peace and quiet. The other ministers had retired to their own rooms, also for a brief respite and a modicum of privacy. They would meet again, in about two hours, over dinner - and no doubt another avalanche of problems would be awaiting their attention. For the moment, he had the unusual luxury of looking over all the old books, realizing he wished he had more time for reading. Sensing he was no longer alone, he turned, and saw Wanda standing in the doorway, smiling sadly at him.

"You've come to say goodbye," he sighed.

"Not goodbye," Wanda answered, stepping into the room. "More of a farewell, until next we meet."

Strucker managed a smile. "That's... hopeful," he allowed.

"Before I go, there are some people I want you to meet."

"Indeed?" Strucker was intrigued.

"Friends of mine. They're waiting in the foyer."

They walked together towards the main entrance of the house, but Strucker frowned as he saw the foyer was empty. "I thought you said your friends would be here."

"They are."

As Wanda grinned, six other people in colorful combat suits suddenly materialized into view - as if appearing from nowhere. The largest, a man in some sort of red spacesuit, accidentally struck his head against the chandelier as he appeared.

"Scott!" Wanda grimaced.

"Sorry." The man called Scott held up a hand and gingerly stopped the swaying motion of the fragile glass structure.

Strucker gaped in astonishment at the faces before him. Some looked vaguely familiar, and yet, even those faces were radically changed. The only person Strucker was reasonably sure he could identify was Bruce Banner, but even he looked entirely different than the feral creature Strucker remembered.

"I think perhaps I should know at least some of you," Strucker said haltingly. "But it appears I do not." He looked at Sam. "I do not know you," he murmured. "But you are now Captain America, it would seem?"

"I am." Sam nodded his head slightly.

"Minister," Wanda said, acknowledging Strucker's title for the first time, "These are the Avengers. They're my team."

"_Your_ team?" Strucker seemed both pleased and surprised. "So, _you_ are their leader?"

"I am. And I wanted to you meet them, face to face, so you might know them better."

"I'm... pleased to meet you all," Strucker made a slight bow.

"And also, to give you a little... incentive," Wanda added. "These are the people who can make your life a living hell, if we find that you are abusing your authority or power over the people of Sokovia in any way. But they are also the people who could be the guardians you have so long wished for - provided, of course, you and I remain on the same page regarding the welfare of our country."

"I understand you well," Strucker said simply, with a slight smile.

"Good." Wanda gave him a radiant smile of her own. "Then we'll detain you no longer. We'll meet again, Minister. And very soon."

"I hope that next time, it will be as friends," Strucker said solemnly.

"So do I." Wanda turned to Sam. "Please get everyone back to the ship, and get ready to depart."

"You're not coming with us?" Sam frowned.

"I'll be right behind you," Wanda promised. "One more thing I need to take care of here first."

"Mind if I sit on your shoulder?" Hope suggested. "Just in case."

Wanda smiled gratefully at her new teammate. "I would like that very much."

Hope grinned, and then seemingly vanished into thin air. A moment later, all the other Avengers did likewise. Strucker stared at the empty space with a bemused look.

Wanda had caught sight of Greta, standing in the passageway, her eyes filled with tears. Wanda hurried over to her and hugged the woman tightly.

"You're leaving?" Greta asked in a heartbroken voice.

"I have to go," Wanda said sadly. "But I will be coming back, Greta, I promise. And when I do, I want to come visit you and your family. Is that all right?"

"We will miss you. But as you long as you are coming back, it is well."

"Good." Wanda hugged her again. "Thank you, for your kindness, and for making me feel so welcome. You and Dmitri and Stjepan have reminded me, I really need to come home to stay. And one day soon, I will."

"We'll be waiting for you," Greta promised tearfully.

A few moments later, Wanda returned to the foyer, discreetly wiping away a few tears of her own. Strucker was still standing there, and he gave her a sad, knowing smile.

"You cannot say no to people who are suffering," he said quietly. "One day, that will cost you dearly, I think."

He wasn't in any way mocking her. His observation was something inexpressibly sad - and Wanda realized that she'd just caught a glimpse of the man she hoped she would see. She smiled and bowed her head in farewell.

"Minister."

She headed for the front door, opened it, and stepped out onto the porch. There was still a large crowd at the gate, which fell into a hushed silence the moment she appeared.

"Uhh, Wanda, what are you doing?" Hope whispered urgently into Wanda's ear.

"A little public relations," Wanda said. "Two minutes, no more."

She walked right up to the gate, trying to show more confidence than she felt, then opened it and stepped outside. Seeing that she meant to stand at the edge of the fountain in the center of the square, the crowd parted enough to let her pass through - although several hands did reach out to touch her as she passed. When Wanda reached the fountain, she hopped up on the ledge, to give her a little better sightline of the crowd. All the faces were upturned towards her expectantly. Wanda had fought monsters and demons and villains, and none of them were as unnerving as she felt now, standing before these anxious people.

"I'm, ahh, not going to make a speech," she apologized. "I'm really not good with speeches. But I did want to say thank you for being so patient. You've been waiting a very long time to see me, and I thought I owed you this much, at least." She floundered for a moment, not entirely sure what she wanted to say. "As I'm sure you know, most of your loved ones have now returned, after an absence of many years. I was one of the people who 'vanished' five years ago, and I... my country is now very different than when I last saw it," she admitted.

"My friends and I fought the monster responsible for everyone's disappearance," Wanda continued, after a moment. "It took us a while, but we finally stopped him. And I'm so sorry we couldn't bring your loved ones home sooner. I can only hope that having your families back now, even after so long a time, is a comfort and a blessing to you."

As Wanda looked out over the crowd, all she could see were expressions of gratitude on everyone's faces, some with tears in their eyes. She found herself blinking back tears of her own.

"What I learned from that experience is, the challenges we face now won't affect just this one city, or even this one country. There are dangers out there that threaten our entire planet. And if we're going to survive, we will have to stand together as one people, one world. I just wanted to say to you, my friends and I will be there, to stand beside you, to defend you as best we can. I haven't been home since the destruction of Novi Grad. That's something I want to change. I hope to return home very soon, and when I do, I can't wait to meet each of you, hear your stories, and help you plan for a better future, not just for Sokovia, but for all of Earth. I truly believe if we are kind to one another, and care for one another, there's no threat we can't face, and win. Don't despair. Help your friends, your families, your neighbors. And I hope to see you all again, very soon."

"Hang on tight," Wanda murmured for Hope's benefit, as she began to generate enough mystical energy to lift her up over the crowd - and then moments later, streaked across the sky like some ruby-red comet.

"Well, that was theatrical," Hope chided gently, still clinging to Wanda's shoulder.

Wanda made a face. "It was, wasn't it? Ugh. I really don't know if I should have done that or not."

"You could have done worse. Think it'll do any good?"

"Maybe. Maybe not." Wanda sighed. "Maybe the only one who benefits is me. We'll have to wait and see. Hang on, Hope, next stop, home!"

* * *

The Avengers' appropriated Wakandan transport was mid-way across the Atlantic when Wanda finally resigned herself to the fact she wasn't going to fall asleep. Carefully tip-toeing through the main cabin where most of her new teammates were dozing, she entered the forward cabin, to find that her teammate Bruce Banner wasn't faring all that well in the sleep department either. He was laying somewhat awkwardly across the chaise lounge, his face in a scowl that wasn't quite a grimace. He looked up as Wanda entered.

"Couldn't sleep either, huh?"

"No." Wanda settled into the chair across from Bruce, and regarded her friend with concern. "Your arm still bothering you?"

"Ehh, it's this pressurized cabin," Bruce grunted. "Makes it act up. I'll be fine, once we're on the ground."

"Can I get you anything?"

"I'm good, I'm good. But thanks." With an effort, he straightened up. "So. Kinda an interesting trip for you."

"You could say that."

"I have to say, I was pretty freaked to see Strucker alive."

"You weren't the only one," Wanda admitted.

"And he's really in charge of the country now."

"He really is."

"Man... that's not right."

"Right or not, that's how it is," Wanda sighed. "He stepped into a complete power vacuum. Between Novi Grad and 'The Snap', there weren't enough government officials left to keep anything running."

"How do you feel about that?" Bruce asked. "Strucker being in charge?"

Wanda shrugged. "He does seem to actually care about keeping the country in one piece. I suppose it could be worse."

Bruce regarded her thoughtfully. "You're really thinkin' about goin' home, aren't you? I mean, back to Sokovia. For good."

Wanda looked at Bruce in surprise. "Yeah," she admitted finally, in sotto voice. "I guess I am."

"That could be a tough way to live, Wanda. Things aren't exactly rosy in Sokovia these days."

"Things haven't been 'rosy' there for a very long time," Wanda pointed out. "And Strucker was right about one thing. I'm not only needed there, I'm _wanted_ there. It's... kind of a nice feeling."

She sighed heavily. "The only thing is, how can I possibly give up being an Avenger."

"Give up being an Avenger?" Bruce frowned.

"Well... if I'm living in Sokovia, I'm not going to be around much in Manhattan, am I?"

Bruce snorted in disgust. "Whaddya talking about? You don't have to live in New York to be an Avenger. Where is _that_ written?"

"Well, I thought that..."

"Come on. Scott and Hope live in San Francisco. Sam and Maria are staying in D.C. That's not gonna change," Bruce reminded her. "Hell, when Nat was running her team, Okoye was in freakin' Wakanda nearly all the time. And Carol was always phoning in from somewhere in outer space. It's not an either-or proposition, Wanda. You can live in Sokovia, and still be an Avenger. This is one situation where you _can_ have your cake and eat it, too."

"And you don't think anybody will mind?"

"Hey, this is _your_ team now, kiddo," Bruce reminded her. "We work for _you_. You tell us when to jump, and the rest of us say, how high?"

Wanda couldn't help smiling at Bruce's braggadocio-tinged reassurance. "Bless you, Bruce," she said gratefully. "You really are one of a kind."

"So are you, Wanda. So are you."

"In that case, since we're getting along so well and all, I'd like to ask a favor."

"Name it."

"I need to close Nat's apartment. And honestly, if I have to stay there one more night, I think I'll scream. Just... too many ghosts," she confessed. "I was hoping I could park in your guest room for a few nights," she said shyly.

"I'd be delighted," Bruce assured her. "_Mi casa es su casa."_

Wanda sighed with relief. "Bruce... thank you."

"So... now you got me thinkin'," Bruce said after a moment. "About our signaling devices. Mebbe we want to get a little more ambitious than that."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Well, I was thinking, Strange has got that 'sling ring' thing he uses to just _whoosh_ himself from one place to another. That's his magic, only he can use that, but what if there was some way we could have some kind of sling rings of our own?"

Wanda frowned, but she was intrigued. "How would that even be possible?"

"Well... we worked out how to use the quantum realm to travel through time," Bruce mused thoughtfully. "I was thinking, if I worked with Scott, Hope and Dr. Pym, maybe we could come up with a device where we could not only call each other, but actually open up a portal to anywhere else on the planet, in conterminous time of course, using our communicators as relay stations."

Wanda was delighted by the suggestion. "Do you really think you could do that?"

"Ahh, I dunno," Bruce grumbled. "Now that I said that out loud, sounds kinda impossible, don't it?"

Wanda grinned at him. "Come on now, Bruce. We're the Avengers. And the Avengers eat impossible for breakfast," both of them said in perfect unison, and then they both laughed.

"All right, all right, I'll look into it," Bruce said, still chuckling. "I can't promise anything. But I'll tap into my inner Tony Stark, and give it my best shot."

"I can't ask for more. Thank you." Frowning suddenly, Wanda dug into her coat pocket and pulled out her phone. "Another message from Clint," she sighed. "Time stamp was six hours ago. I really need to call him when we we're finally back in the same time zone."

"Mebbe you should go see him, after you get Nat's affairs settled," Bruce suggested quietly.

Wanda nodded. "I know I should, it's just..."

"Hey. Wanda," Bruce interrupted gently. "Y'ever think that maybe the reason Clint wants you to visit, is because he needs you there?"

"_Needs_ me?" Wanda blinked in surprise.

"Clint's in a really bad spot right now. He feels responsible for Nat's death. Now, you and I and everybody else knows, that's not how it is," Bruce added quickly. "But that doesn't change how he feels. Maybe what he needs most is to have the people he loves close by, to remind him of that. You're like another daughter to him. And Nat was like his sister. And maybe, before you take this big plunge and go back home for good and all, you should go spend a few days with Clint and Laura and the kids. Remind them, and remind yourself, you got family all around the world who love you dear, and who would do anything for you."

Tears began to sting Wanda's eyes. She got out of her chair, wrapped her arms around Bruce as far as they would go and hugged him tightly.

"I'm so sorry," she sighed mournfully.

"Hey, hey, don't start with that again..."

"No, I mean, I'm so sorry I didn't get to know you sooner. You really are the most amazing person."

"Ahh, you think I'm something, you should go look in the mirror sometime," Bruce groused good-naturedly. But as Wanda snuggled against him, he held her close, and didn't let her go.


	12. Chapter 12

Two days after returning from Sokovia, Wanda woke in the guest bedroom at Bruce Banner's house. She'd slept nearly the entire time since leaving her former home, but now she actually felt like getting up. There was work to be done, and no sense in putting it off any longer. She shrugged herself into her bathrobe and slippers, and padded into the kitchen. Bruce was already up, getting ready to leave for work.

"Hey, good morning," he greeted her warmly. "Sleep well?"

"I feel like I've slept for two days straight," Wanda gave him a rueful smile.

"Yeah, well, you mostly did," Bruce answered. "Probably did you a world of good. Getting kidnapped and crossing all those time zones can really mess with you."

"It surely did that," Wanda agreed, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

Bruce gave her a quizzical look. "Since when do you drink coffee?" he asked.

Wanda smiled. "Thought I could use a jump-start this morning. I'm going to go through Nat's tablet entries today."

Bruce's smile faded. "Ugh. I don't envy you that chore."

"She left it behind for me," Wanda said. "She wanted me to find it. That means there's something on that tablet she wanted me to see. Or maybe, something she wanted me to take care of for her. Unless you want me to wait, so you can watch it with me?"

Bruce could barely hide his own grief. "Yeah..." he sighed sadly. "I'm not ready for that. Not yet."

"Me, either," Wanda admitted sadly. "But I need to do this. Tell you what. If I find any entries I think you'd want to see, I'll tell you about them. And whenever you're ready, you can watch them yourself."

Bruce nodded somberly. "Okay."

"See you tonight for dinner?"

"Sure. I'll pick something up on my way home from the lab."

Wanda grinned at him in amazement. "You really like working a nine-to-five job in a research lab, don't you?"

"Are you kidding me? This is my dream job," Bruce grinned. "I've wanted to do this for years, and now, finally, I can. Best of all possible worlds."

"All right, then. Go have fun playing mad scientist, professor," Wanda playfully waved him away. "And I'll see you tonight."

* * *

It was shortly after five in the afternoon when Bruce returned to the house. He'd stopped off at a local shawarma place and picked up dinner for himself and Wanda. As he walked into the kitchen, however, the house seemed unusually quiet.

"Wanda?" Bruce felt a brief flash of panic. What if she'd been kidnapped again? "Marco!" he bellowed.

"Polo," came Wanda's voice from the living room.

Sighing with relief, Bruce set the meal on the kitchen counter, and ambled into the living room. "So, how was your day?"

Wanda was sprawled across the couch, eyes swollen and bloodshot from crying, and a small bottle of vodka half-emptied into a tumbler of cranberry juice on the table.

"Oh. _That_ bad, huh?" Bruce murmured sympathetically.

"Do you know," Wanda asked, making a heroic effort to not slur her words, "How much money a master assassin makes?"

Bruce gave her a bemused look. "I have absolutely no idea," he declared.

"Take a wild stab at it," Wanda urged. "Go on, guess."

"Are we talking about just one hit, or an entire career? This _is_ Nat we're talking about, right?"

By way of answer, Wanda held out the tablet to him. After a moment's hesitation, Bruce took it, and looked at the screen. His eyes went wide.

"Holy _shit,"_ he murmured.

"2.2 billion dollars," Wanda intoned solemnly. "That's _billion,_ with a 'B'."

"Nat was a billionaire," Bruce shook his head disbelievingly. "Who'da thunk it."

"There's more. Several years ago, Nat had an executor draw up her estate plan. In the event of her death, or any disappearance lasting longer than two years, the plan kicks in automatically."

Bruce gave Wanda a hard look. "Are you trying to tell me we're rich?"

"No. Not us. Over the last few years, our Nat had a secret hobby. She was traveling the world, meeting with people who run foster care programs and children's hospitals in at least a dozen countries. Once Nat is declared dead, her assets are to be liquidated and dispersed to these organizations, to help find foster homes for kids, and provide medical care and temporary shelters for those on the wait list."

"That's gotta be a really long list," Bruce murmured.

"I had no idea myself. But I looked it up. As of this year, UNICEF estimates there are at least 153 million kids out there, with absolutely no one to look after them. 153 _million. _I can't even begin to wrap my head around a number like that." She took the tablet back, and began to scroll through the images on the camera roll. "I did some digging of my own, and it seems Nat vetted each of her target organizations personally and very carefully. She wanted to make sure whoever received the funds was going to be a responsible steward." She found the image she wanted, and handed the tablet back to Bruce. "Check this out. Security camera image from the financial organization that will act as the disbursing agent for Nat's estate. Take away that long coat, the oversized sunglasses and that ridiculous brown wig, do you see anyone you recognize?"

Bruce smiled sadly. "Ahh. The lips that were made for kissing. I'd recognize them anywhere," he sighed.

"The disbursals won't be in Nat's name. She wanted all her donations to remain anonymous." Wanda's eyes were welling with tears again. "Most of the world only knows Natasha Romanoff as an assassin, a murderer, or a spy. Someone who only did harm in the world."

"We know who the real Nat was," Bruce reminded her. "She wanted all her good works done in secret. Trust that she had a reason for that."

"She's going to be remembered as a monster, Bruce. And she's not, she's not. She..."

Wanda set the tablet on the table in front of her, grabbed a facial tissue and daubed her eyes.

"Jesus, I am so fucking _sick_ of crying," she muttered angrily.

"Why don't you put that stuff away now," Bruce suggested quietly. "Come join me in plate of shawarma. Before it gets cold."

"I'd love that." Wanda got up off the couch, and gave Bruce a quick hug. "Let's go eat and talk about something else. _Anything_ else."

"Really?" Bruce grinned at her. "You wanna hear about all the latest breakthroughs in gamma ray technology?"

Wanda returned the grin through her tears. "Oh, absolutely, professor," she declared. "Sounds fascinating."

* * *

It had been almost a month since the funerals for Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff, and while Wanda's heart was still heavy, a sense that the world was still turning was beginning to reassert itself. Wanda had made a series of travel arrangements for people she needed to see, before returning to Sokovia permanently in another month. The whole of the world seemed to have shifted, somehow; nearly everyone that Wanda had worked with on the original Avengers team was either dead, retired, or had disappeared into some far-flung corner of the cosmos. Wanda had her new team, people she loved and trusted, but they weren't a team. Not yet. That, she reflected, would take some time. She had no doubt they would gel together quite nicely as time went on. And Bruce had been good for his word, coming up with a device that would allow the members of the new Avengers team to not only contact each other, but also open up temporary portals so they could join their teammates on a moment's notice. That 'security blanket' gave Wanda the reassurance she needed to safely start her life anew in her own country. Any time she wanted to see anyone, she didn't have to settle for a face on a viewscreen. She could step into anyone's living room, anywhere in the world, any time she wanted. It also gave the Avengers the ability to slip in and out of situations and only draw minimal attention to themselves - one of Wanda's tenets for the new team.

King T'Challa had graciously given Wanda and her team permanent access to the aircraft they'd borrowed, giving them state-of-the-art transport wherever that was needed. T'Challa further authorized Okoye, his Minister of Defense, to be the official Wakandan liaison to the new Avengers team, and even authorized her to join the team on certain missions, should Wakandan interests be involved. Baron Strucker had even reached out to Okoye, at Wanda's recommendation, to open full diplomatic relations between the two countries - an olive branch that pleased Wanda greatly.

Wanda felt completely at peace with her decision. She thought she might waver on it. But with Nat gone and Clint retired, Wanda felt far less at home in America than she did before, and she was ready to begin the work of rebuilding her homeland. She was actually looking forward to it.

There were still one or two matters to attend to, however. Which led her to the first stop on her long journey: the home of Tony and Pepper Stark.

It was Happy Hogan, Pepper's personal aide, who picked up Wanda at Bruce's home and drove her out to the countryside.

"How is she?" Wanda asked.

Happy gave her a resigned smile. "How do you think? She lost her husband. Morgan lost her dad. I lost my boss, and one of my best ever friends. We're just taking it day by day right now. That's all we can do."

When they arrived at the Stark cabin, Pepper came out to meet them. Wanda was shocked at how pale and stricken Pepper looked. But despite her grief, Pepper welcomed her warmly.

"It's so good to see you," she murmured, hugging Wanda tightly. "I have to admit, I was a little surprised to hear you were coming out. I didn't think you and Tony were exactly each other's favorite people."

"I'm sorry I didn't get to know him better," Wanda sighed sadly. "He was, I think, a much better man than I ever knew. Tony was actually responsible for me joining the Avengers."

"He was?" Pepper frowned in puzzlement. "I didn't know that."

"Clint and Nat sponsored me, but Tony was the one who fought for me to stay in the States after the destruction of Novi Grad. Anyone who knew anything about me wanted to have me strung up, or tried in an international court, as an ally of Ultron. Tony gave me the benefit of the doubt. He publicly declared me an Avenger, and had his lawyers fight my extradition charges. I wouldn't even be standing here now, if not for him."

"This is the first time I've heard about this," Pepper said, still genuinely surprised. "Tony never once mentioned this to me."

"Maybe he felt uncomfortable about it," Wanda suggested. "We weren't exactly friends at the time. But it's all true, I swear."

"I believe you. Tony was capable of some very magnanimous gestures, when the mood struck him."

"I'm so sorry for your loss," Wanda said mournfully. "I wish there had been some way, any way, we could have saved him. And Nat. I know I said that at the funeral, I just... I wish I knew what to say," she said helplessly.

"You told me something wonderful about my husband today," Pepper said. "That's a gift I'm very thankful for."

"I have another gift for you," Wanda said shyly.

"You do?"

Wanda reached into her coat pocket, and took out a small jeweler's box. She held it out to her.

"This... is from your family."

"My family?" Pepper took the box, utterly mystified. "What is it?"

"Open it up," Wanda urged.

Bemused, Pepper flipped open the lid. Inside the box was a small, circular gold disc, barely the size of a shirt button.

"It looks like... a watch battery? What is it?"

"It's a signaling device that Bruce and Dr. Pym created. With this, you can contact me, Rhodey, Sam, Bruce, Bucky, or Scott and Hope. If you ever need us, any one of us, or all of us, you can reach us - on this. And we can be at your side literally in seconds. We're your family, Pepper. We love you. And we just wanted you to know, we'll never be far from you. Whenever you need us, for anything at all, call us. We'll be there for you."

Overwhelmed by the gesture, Pepper pulled Wanda close and hugged her tightly.

"Thank you," she whispered, tears streaming down her face. "Thank you so much."

* * *

"Okay, hold on. Don't shoot," Clint Barton cautioned his daughter.

"It's okay, Dad. I got it," Lila answered, her concentration focused on the bullseye target.

"This is a crossbow, honey. A whole different beast from a bow and arrow. Mind your elbow."

It was early afternoon, and the Barton family was taking advantage of some unseasonably mild weather to enjoy a day outdoors - to be capped off by a picnic lunch. Clint and his daughter Lila were practicing with her new crossbow at the old tree near the barn, while the two boys were practicing throwing a baseball with their catchers' mitts. Laura Barton was busy setting out hot dogs, cold cuts, potato salad and drinks on the weatherbeaten table.

"Hey, you guys want mayo, or mustard, or both?" Laura called out.

Lila turned to her father and made a face. "When's mom gonna figure out only Cooper's weird enough to put mayo on a hot dog?"

"Hey, nobody complains when you put jalapeños in the mac and cheese," Clint reminded her. "Just mustard for us, please, Mama," he called back.

Clint turned back to see her daughter staring off into the distance with a puzzled frown. "Honey? What is it?"

Lila made sure the crossbow was locked, then lowered it and pointed. "Dad? Is that... Wanda?" she asked excitedly.

Clint turned. Walking up the dirt road, still a long distance off, was a young woman with red hair and long dark red coat, carrying a large, battered suitcase.

Before Clint could even gasp with surprise, Lila set down her crossbow and ran full-tilt across the field towards her. Clint's face broke out into a wide, joyful smile.

"Mama!" He bawled at the top of his lungs. "Look who it is! Look who's here!"

Wanda set down her suitcase just in time, as Lila reached her and launched herself into her arms. Wanda grabbed her, swung her around joyfully, then set her down and hugged her tightly.

"You came!" Lila blubbered, near tears. "I was so worried you wouldn't come!"

"Are you kidding?" Wanda grinned. "Do you have any idea how much I missed you guys?"

Even the boys, who were studiously practicing the art of playing it cool, came running up to greet their 'Auntie Wanda'.

"We saw you on TV," Nate said, hugging Wanda's kneecaps.

"You did? What was I doing?"

"You picked up all those trucks!"

"Oh. That." Wanda grinned sheepishly.

"That was pretty badass," Cooper said, adding an awkward hug of his own.

"Well, thank you, Cooper," Wanda gave the young man her warmest smile. "I try my best."

"Can you pick me up like that?" Nate wanted to know.

"What, you mean like _this?"_ Playfully, Wanda scooped the boy up in a band of mystical energy, and he squealed with glee. Gathering him into one arm, Wanda kissed his cheek.

"Oof! You are getting way too big to be carried around, young man," she told him.

"No, I'm not," Nate said, a little sullenly.

Clint came running up, a little out of breath, a look of absolute joy on his face.

"Hey! I'm so glad you decided to come after all," he said, giving her a quick hug and a peck on the cheek.

"Oh, come on, don't say you doubted me," Wanda grinned. "Uhh... would you mind getting my suitcase? Looks like I'm stuck with the precious cargo."

"Sure thing. Your timing's perfect. We were just getting ready for lunch."

"Well, that's good. Because I'm _starving."_

They started to walk back down the road, towards the farmhouse.

"So... Sokovia, huh?" Clint made a face.

"Yeah. What do you think?" Wanda asked anxiously.

"I think, Sokovia's an awful long way from here," Clint answered.

Wanda grinned at him. "Not any more, it isn't."

Clint frowned in puzzlement. "What does that mean?"

"It means, now I can visit you and Laura and the kids whenever I want. And you can visit me, too."

Clint's face fell. "Oh, God, this isn't one of Banner's gizmos... is it?"

"Now, now, we've tested it thoroughly, and it's perfectly safe," Wanda assured him. "And it's not just Bruce's brainchild. Dr. Pym helped too, and he knows more about quantum realm navigation than practically anyone."

"So, no chance we'll end up in London in 1666, or anything like that?"

"No chance," Wanda promised. "All time is strictly local."

Clint nodded, warming to the idea. "That could work." He smiled at Wanda. "It's really good to see you, Wanda," he said tenderly. "Really, really good to see you."

Wanda regarded her old friend thoughtfully. They both had gaping holes in their hearts, and an awful lot of guilt to overcome. But suddenly, she just knew: it would be all right. Each could offer the other what they most needed to heal: forgiveness. They would survive this. Together.

"It's good to see you too," Wanda smiled back at him. "And it's really, really good to be home."


End file.
